


Operation: Voltron

by BrittySauce



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aged-Up Pidge | Katie Holt, BAMF Allura (Voltron), BAMF Coran (Voltron), Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Blood and Torture, Cop Keith, Criminal Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hawaii Five-0 AU, Hostage Situations, Human Allura (Voltron), Human Coran (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Torture, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron)-centric, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Mentioned Coran (Voltron), Military Background, Military Backstory, Military Training, Multi, Multilingual Lance (Voltron), NASA Pidge | Katie Holt, Orphan Keith (Voltron), POV Allura (Voltron), POV Coran (Voltron), POV Hunk (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), POV Pidge | Katie Holt, POV Shiro (Voltron), Past Torture, Pining Lance (Voltron), Politics, Protective Coran (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Supportive Coran (Voltron), Torture, Women in the Military, white collar au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 55,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittySauce/pseuds/BrittySauce
Summary: Allura Harlow puts together a task force consisting of five people. Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane, a retired Airmen. Katie 'Pidge' Holt, a NASA computer engineer and secret hacker. Tsuyoshi 'Hunk' Garrett, a NASA mechanical engineer. Keith Kogane, FBI agent and little brother to Shiro. And last but not least, the criminal known as 'Blue Lion', and who goes by the name 'Lance McClain'.The team isn't 100 percent if that's his real name, but it's what they call him. Together, along with Coran Smyth, Allura’s friend, advisor and protector, the seven of them will go up against the international enemy of the world, a terrorist by the name of 'Zarkon'.~~~Keith Kogane is an agent for the FBI, and been solely focused on apprehending a criminal they know only as 'Blue Lion', due to the person's calling. An intricately made origami lion, made out of blue paper.For three years he's tried to track this guy down, with no luck. Until he meets Allura Harlow's new team, which was led by his own brother. After Pidge helps close the case, the seven of them, including 'Blue Lion' go after Zarkon.And it won't be easy.





	1. Mr. President- Allura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura talks to the President.

"The President will see you now."

Allura stood up slowly, allowing her sundress to flow around her. Her heart was beating a little fast, and her hands were shaky around the folder in her hands. 

She started to the door of the Oval Office, stopping for a brief moment to check her reflection. She smoothed down a wayward white curl, tucking the hair beneath her braided crown. After she deemed herself presentable she squared her shoulders and stepped inside the office.

She hated how foreign the room was now, how she felt like an outsider looking in. Once upon a time this office was her place to go to feel safe. The place to go when she felt down, or just to relax. Once upon a time the room smelled of roses and a certain type of cologne. 

Once upon a time the room smelled like her father. Like home.

Now when she walks through the door everything is changed, but only in minute ways. The smell, for example, was cigars and male sweat. There were no roses decorating the walls. There were no cutesy nicknacks on the desk that she made with or for her father. 

There was no familiarity.

The room now, as it was, was immaculately clean, and organized. The man behind the desk wasn't a white haired man with a beard and laugh lines around his sparkling blue eyes. This man was younger, just reaching middle aged and was yet to form grey hairs. It was inevitable of course. The stress of the job did it to everyone.

The man looked up from his desk, his reading glasses slipping down his nose and revealing exotic upward curved eyes. They were the color of mud in her opinion.

"Mr. President. Thank you for seeing me today. I know how busy you are." Allura said, her voice almost delicate but even she could hear the sharpness in her own voice. She was proud her voice didn't waver, didn't portray the pain building in her chest the longer she sat in the office.

President James Jackson stood from his desk with a smile and walked around to shake her hand. She made sure her grip was strong while not being bone crushing. Her father taught her a good handshake is the best way to start a conversation, business or otherwise.

Jackson returned the grip slightly, before he released her hand and gestured to the couches. "It's my pleasure!" He said. His voice was almost obnoxiously overjoyed, or perhaps she was being cynical again. 

"I'm Allura-" She began, trying to introduce herself. However before she could even get out her last name, Jackson was waving a dismissive hand with a smile.

"No need for formal introduction Allura. I know who you are, so tell me." He said. They both sat down on the couches across from each other, a low, crystal clear glass coffee table in between them. Allura folded her ankles and tucked her legs at an angle, placing her hands neatly in her lap on top of her pink folder. 

Perhaps the hot pink folder and the baby pink sundress were a bit much in the color department but she couldn't help herself. Pink was her favorite color in practically every form.

Jackson didn't bother with formal sitting posture and instead poured a glass of wine for each of them from the iced bottle on the side table beside the couch. Problem was, it was red wine, and Allura hates red wine. But how could she deny the president when he was already handing over a glass?

She didn't that's how.

"Why did you call for a meeting so formally? Your father and I were friends you know, we don't have to be so formal with each other." Jackson continued after tasting the red wine with a serene smile. Allura politely raised her own glass to her face, breathing in the over sweet smell of red wine and placing it to her lips. 

She didn't have a choice about drinking it, but she knew better than to show her true feelings around people she couldn't trust. Perhaps it was the military that instilled this instinct in her. Or perhaps it was politics. 

"It is because the matter I wish to speak of is, in fact, a formal one." Allura replied, glad her sugar sweet and delicate voice was still in tact despite her desperate want to wash her mouth of the taste of red wine. 

Jackson didn't reply verbally, but the raised eyebrow and the wave of a hand signalled for her to continue. Finally that nauseating smile of his turned into a serious thin line. 

It's not that Jackson is a bad person, Allura just hates him. She would hate anyone who took over her father's position when he was so brutally murdered. She just couldn't see how no one was mourning him the way she and her trusted Advisor and friend, Coran, did. 

She shook the darkening cloud from her thoughts and steeled herself to stop the shake in her hands. This room was too full of memories, too full of pain for her. Hopefully he doesn't make this more difficult then it has to be. Allura handed the president her folder, a spark of amusement lighting in her when she saw him pick it up slowly.

As if the color would burn him.

Men would be men, she assumed. She said nothing of the way he looked with her pink folder in his hands, like a big tough biker man playing dolly with a little girl.

"What is this?" He asked her. Allura gestured airily for him to open it and when he finally did she began speaking. If she was correct he was skimming the contract in front of him while listening to her.

"The nation felt it when my father died. His loss was mourned across the country, and even across international state lines." She said. Allura’s chest throbbed again and she resisted the urge to press the heel of her palm into her clavicle to help with it's throbbing ache. 

"Everyone also knows who it was that took his life." She said. She paused as her throat constricted slightly and chocked on the man's name. Luckily for her Jackson was nodding, a grim expression on his face as he locked eyes with her. 

"Zarkon. Or at least that's what they call him. The man is a wanted terrorist across the world, but no country wants another World War on our hands, so no one has made the first major strike against him." Jackson said, his fingers gripping tighter on her folder. 

Allura nodded, picking up where his train of thought left off, glad she had a moment to compose herself. "It makes him virtually invincible, how no one has taken the risk of starting war with Zarkon and his followers. And I want to change that." 

Jackson's eyes snapped back up to hers from the folder, and hardened glint in his eye. "You want me to start a war?" He said to her, more of a statement than a question but he still trailed off to wait for an answer. Allura shook her head no. 

"No sir. What I am proposing is that a team of elite professionals go after Zarkon in secret. A secret elite task force if you will. Should there be an agent captured, they will be unclaimed by the government, meaning they have no national ties to the country." Her voice was strong, confident and unwavering. Everything she wasn't feeling inside. 

Jackson snapped the folder shut and shook his head, leaning up from his reclining position to finally sitting in formal posture. "I can't condone this. I already have an army holding back Zarkon’s forces from taking over Ally countries as it is. No one has even seen the man's face and lived to tell about it." 

Allura felt her heart race even more with the threat that he would shut down her proposition before giving her a shot. "Sir, just-" She started before she was cut off again. It was becoming a new pet peeve of hers.

"We have literally nothing on who this guy really is. No facial description, no birth name unless it actually is Zarkon but no Zarkon exists in any record across the world. No one knows how deep his connections run, or how many people blindly follow him. I cannot accept sending in men who weren't trained or prepared for this. My answer is no." He said. He had started pacing about the time he brought up a facial description. Allura, however, was not taking a no for an answer. 

She sucked in a breath and gently let her commanding tone seep into the sugar sweetness of her voice. "Please sit down Mr. President." It seemed to work, as the man stopped pacing and sat down heavily across from her on the arm of the couch. It was more like he was leaning but she would take what she could get.

"Flip to the third page in the folder please." Allura pushed, repositioning her legs as they began to go numb. Jackson did as instructed, though not without a huff. His eyebrows shot back up when he spied what was on that page.

Allura began recounting everything on the page by heart, staring the president down defiantly. "Takashi Shirogane, more commonly known as Shiro. He joined the airforce at the age of eighteen and his prowess and intelligence behind the wheel of a fighter jet shot him up the ranks faster than anyone else in Airforce history." 

Jackson flipped to the next page, reading along with her as she said what was written in her own words. She liked that his eyes progressively gets wider and wider as he looks over Shirogane's resume. As she continued she felt herself get a lot more confident in herself and she tilted her chin up in pride only slightly.

"After serving three tours in Zarkon’s territory, fighting against his forces in the field and as an officer, he returned stateside. As soon as he turned of legal age to be an astronaut, he signed up for NASA. Hired on the spot, spotless record during training and highest aptitude for space exploration in generations. Right out of the gate, he launched into a two month voyage in space." Allura continued. Her heart broke with what she knew Jackson would be reading on the next page. 

"His ship crashed on reentry into the atmosphere, and he and his two copilots were taken prisoner by Zarkon. Roughly a year after crashing in Zarkon territory, Shirogane escaped, although he lost his arm in the process. He's been refitted for an advanced technology based arm to replace it and is currently on leave of the military and NASA space program both." Allura finished, watching the frown overtake Jackson's face. But he wasn't saying no again, in fact he was slowly shifting back into his seat on the couch. 

Jackson flipped through to the contract at the front and Allura waited patiently for him to read the contract through. When he was finished, he looked up at her and closed the folder, sliding it across the table where she picked it back up.

"I'm listening. If only for the fact that your father was such a good man." Jackson said, intertwining his fingers and leaning forward to rest on his knees. Allura brightened a bit, despite the unsure look on the president's face.

"All I ask for is permission to recruit my people for this job. We won't immediately go after Zarkon of course, we'll start with his followers." She said laying her hands flat on her knees. 

"We'll start small, by gathering information on Zarkon and his forces. Then slowly we'll chip away at the bottom of his following until we have him in sights." Allura pushed the folder back towards the president, hoping he'll sign it right then but knowing that he'll check with every lawyer he has in his arsenal to make sure there are no loopholes. 

A short silence enveloped them and Allura could feel her nerves creeping back up. She knew this idea was risky to take, in more ways than one, but the possibility of taking down Zarkon was too much of an opportunity to pass up.

Jackson slowly nodded his head, his eyes distant, lost in his own head. Allura refrained from smirking. This guy was too easy to read. 

"I'll talk it over with my lawyers and advisors and I'll let you know what my decision is as soon as possible." Jackson said, suddenly snapping back to attention. Allura nodded politely, barely able to contain both her squeal of happiness and her groan of dread towards the wait. 

Finally she would avenge her father's wrongful assassination. 

Allura and Jackson both stood up and shook hands over the table, grips strong. He walked her to the door of the Oval Office, like a gentlemen, and nodded his goodbye as he shut the door behind her. Allura barely even acknowledged the two secret service agents as she took a few steps away from the door.

When she was sure she was far enough that the president wouldn't hear her, she broke out into a skip. She turned back to look in time to catch the small smiles on the two men in sunglasses drop back into a stony disposition. Allura giggled quietly and smirked evilly at them before disappearing from their gaze. 

Two weeks later her contract was signed.


	2. White Haired Woman- Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura recruits Shiro.

There was a knock at Shiro’s door later into the night.

He had been getting ready for bed, already dressed down to his sweatpants. He had been methodically rubbing oil into the scarring across his body to help with the itching and pain when the knock came to his door.

Now normal people?

Normal people would have stopped what they were doing, thrown on a shirt and answered the door like civilized people. Maybe it was someone in need of a phone to call for a tow? Or maybe it was someone lost, and needing directions? Or maybe it was just the neighborhood kids on a late Saturday night playing ding dong ditch. Could be any one of those options, and normal people would answer the call.

Not Shiro.

Takashi Shirogane was too paranoid and too well trained to do something as reckless as answering a door to a stranger. How did he know it was a stranger and not a friend in need of a place to crash? The knocking sequence. All of his friends and family knew to only use one knocking sequence, and another if things weren’t exactly _hunky dory._

This knock was neither.

So Shiro did what any over paranoid, ex- military, prisoner of war would do. Which was simple. He just didn’t answer the door. Waiting out the strangers to hear what they did next.

Most left. People needing help get more urgent in their knocking. And someone with too much time on their hands to stand outside his front door? Knocking in an unfamiliar sequence, waiting five minutes and knocking again?

That was a threat.

So again, he did what any sane, paranoid soldier who never really left the battlefield would do. He grabbed his gun, he put on a bulletproof vest over his bare chest- because shirts take too much time and they rub his skin raw after oiling- and crept through his house like a cat.

After dodging windows, creaks in the floorboards and that one kitchen light he never turns off, Shiro had his back to the side of the door. The knock came again, making his muscles tense. It was still unhurried, and still the same sequence.

Three knocks and then a slight hesitancy before two more followed.

Except this time the person knocking got impatient and tested the handle. Shiro had yet to turn his two locks for the night, which made him curse inside his head. From then on he would lock the doors at sunset.

The door was pushed open slowly, as if testing for weight against it. Then it was pushed in further and a figure stepped one foot over the threshold. Shiro never gave the slim figure a chance.

“Make one move and I pull the trigger.” He said. Sometimes Shiro really hated how deadly his voice sounded when he was in the heat of battle adrenaline, despite him being stateside and retired from active duty.

Stupid arm.

Sure he had a badass prosthetic, which was decades ahead of its time, designed by someone in NASA. But it couldn’t replace his human hand.

The figure didn’t even react in a way Shiro would expect from someone that made the ‘threat located’ alarm in his head go blaring. Gut instinct was a powerful thing after all.

“Put the gun down Shirogane, I just want to talk.” She said. Whoever this slim female was, it wasn’t a voice he could readily identify. Vaguely familiar? Yes. Like the sound of a TV actress on a show he had playing as white noise while he obsessively cleaned his house every Friday evening.

Okay so he had the slightest bit of OCD about the cleanliness of his home. Sue him.

Shiro scoffed at the woman, who he obviously didn’t know from Adam if she called him 'Shirogane’. The only people who ever used his full last name was officers in the air force who Shiro didn’t know personally. Which, admittedly, was a lot, but that’s what happens when you serve a country as big as this one.

_Still._

“You are trespassing, what is keeping me from taking the threat out of my personal space?” Shiro asked. The woman laughed, something tinny and sharp but kind of delicate as well.

“You perceive me a threat and not my two bodyguards sitting in my car on the curb?” She asked. It was a mocking voice, also slightly accented, maybe something from the northern states, and Shiro didn’t like it. He hadn’t had the time to check outside for any other threats.

This woman however, raised every alarm that had developed in his head and gut since the day he joined the airforce. It was the same alarms that went off right before an ambush in enemy territory. The same alarms he got from Zarkon’s men when he was taken prisoner, which didn’t stop until after his new arm had been finished.

Also the same alarms that went off when his little brother got a new clue in one of his cases, and Shiro tried to take away his junk food. So maybe the alarms weren’t perfect, but it’s the thought that counts right?

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t really care. But you are going to take a slow step backwards, and you are going to leave.” Shiro said, and the woman sighed.

“And here I thought you might be a gentleman.” She shot back at him. Shiro didn’t raise to the bait. Completely anyways. Who doesn’t love a little banter with the enemy?

Zarkon’s men sure did at least.

“Only to people who don’t intrude on my property.” Shiro said back, calmly as he stepped off the wall. Something told him being up against a flat surface was a bad idea.

“I don’t like when men try to intimidate me Mr. Shirogane. It’s rude.” She said, her voice turning sharp as glass.

Shiro launched backwards as she lunged into a well executed drop to the floor and sweep of her legs to get him off balance. She’s obviously been trained well. Where he had no clue, but he had a good idea on what kind of attacks she would use. Since this woman was smaller than Shiro in build, though strong if she was confident she could sweep his legs from under him, then she would need to use her slighter frame to get the advantage.

His house was an enclosed space, despite how spacious it was. She could maneuver far easier than he could if he let her. Shiro decided not to let her, but he also didn’t want to kill her.

Bad for his reputation and he really wouldn’t do well in prison. Of course, he would be fine physically, but the constant stress would send him back to his soldier persona and he really didn’t want that.

Plus, his little brother would murder him.

Shiro dodged a high swipe of the legs, also a woman’s strongest part of the body naturally. Men were naturally built strong in the arms, women in the legs. Of course that was just a general stereotype, it didn’t exactly apply to everyone.

He tried to grab the woman and secure her arms, which actually worked. Had it not been for those legs.

Who was this woman? And how was she kicking his butt?

The fight only lasted a few minutes, tops. Most hand to hand combat didn’t last long anyways. It was too tiring and both parties would need a vast amount of stamina to hold it together any longer than that. She was small, and he was rusty so, yeah.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he was suddenly weaponless and face down on the floor. The woman huffed above him, and long stringy locks of hair that glinted silver fell in his eyes.

“I would suggest,” She said between puffs of breath. “That you calm down. I’m not a threat.”

Shiro didn’t even have to roll the dice to decide if that was true or not. His alarms were still blaring, louder than ever now. But Shiro did relax his shoulders like he was surrendering.

_As if._

The hold on his arms behind his back loosened and pulled away so that only fingertips brushed his skin. Her hands were warm. Made his skin tingle where she touched. That was when Shiro turned the tables and suddenly he had her pinned on her back.

Easy peasy, sort of.

“Lights on.” Shiro said, followed by two slaps of his and her arms against his hardwood floor. Shiro had the advantage of looking down and away from the lights suddenly blinding them in the room.

Eyes burning, he looked down and saw an angel.

The badass, four winged, blade wielding soldiers of heaven. Not those babied down angels with fluffy feathers and halos.

She was beautiful as she was dangerous, whoever she was. Her hair- white, not silver- fanned around her head in a tangled mess. One thick lock was trapped between her lips. Which were thick and red.

Her eyes were squeezed shut in a wince, framed by long black lashes. Her skin was also a cocoa brown tan. Like she just stepped off a beach in Hawaii. Hell if he knew if that was true or not.

When she opened her eyes, they were like glittering crystals. Pale on the color palet, ringed by the deep blue of the seas and her pupils blown wide. He must be really blurry to her if her eyes haven’t dilated back to normal.

Shiro blinked away his shock at her beauty, and took notice of the real interest in her appearance. Up close and personal like this, he could see the needle thin scars on her skin, and the peeking of thicker ones beneath the collar of her t-shirt.

Also some ink on her right arm.

“Who are you and why are you in my house?” Shiro demanded. He was ashamed to admit the deadly tone of voice had turned almost husky.

He’s got to be insane for being even remotely attracted to a woman who came to his home uninvited, proceeded to attack him, and still hasn’t given a name.

That was soon remedied though.

“I am Lieutenant Allura Harlow of the Naval Armed Forces, former First Daughter of President Harlow. I’m here to ask you to join and lead a team I’m putting together to stop the terrorist Zarkon.” She said, her voice all seriousness, but her smirk knowing. Like she knew what he would do next.

Probably did.

This woman, Allura as she calls herself, tugged lightly on her pinned wrists, and Shiro backed off. Only to stand up on guard of course. His alarms were still blaring and it made his skin itch.

Allura pulled herself up off the floor with grace he never expected of someone who had been beaten in combat. Even most men who tried their hand against Shiro in a sanctioned sparring match usually got up with at least a huff of effort. She was just silent.

He liked that.

“I’m listening, so long as you remove your gun from your boot and hand it over.” He said. He wasn’t stupid. He had the woman pinned for Christ sakes. And as perverted as it sounds, it’s one of the best ways to locate weapons on a person.

How? Let’s look at it this way.

When someone is pinned, and someone is pinning another person, usually the main points of contact are the hands to wrists, the hips on hips, and the thighs against thighs to keep them all in place. But if you adjust your body so that your legs line up with theirs, and if you know what to feel for, it’s easy to spot a concealed weapon.

Besides, the person underneath is usually too distracted with getting free to warrant concern in the extra contact. Allura raised her hands and removed the revolver strapped to her ankle inside a pair of heeled boots.

He had much more respect, knowing she nearly took him down in boots with raised heels. A woman who could hold her own was always a nice surprise. Some women were so demure, and while that’s not bad, it just drives Shiro’s protective instincts up a wall. Doesn’t matter if they’re strangers on the train or life long friends.

If they can’t hold their own in a fight Shiro worries. Actually he worries for everyone who can’t protect themselves, but he has a soft spot for women in particular.

Allura gingerly hands him her gun, barrel to the ground.

“Now that that is over.” Allura began. She sat down neatly on his couch, tucking her legs to the side like she was sitting with royalty and not a retired soldier and war veteran who was beyond paranoid and protective.

“Let’s talk business, Mr. Shirogane.” Allura smiled through her words. It was a pretty smile, lots of white teeth.

Shiro dragged a chair from the table in the dining area, not a room, because no walls separated the space. When an older man stepped into the house, Shiro barely cast him a glance. Yes, he set off alarms too. But not nearly as much as this woman, Allura.

The older male was a red head, though his hair was greying at the hairline. He wore a smart suit, and he had a mustache that looked painfully fake. Too cartoonishly groomed to be real, probably.

“I’m starting a taskforce of sorts to apprehend or take out the terrorist known as Zarkon, and all of his fanatics that follow him.” Allura said, drawing Shiro’s attention once more. She glanced at the door and waved a nonchalant hand.

“And this is Coran. He advises and protects me, though I can handle myself just fine.” She continued. The last part was said with a directed glare at Coran, the advisor- protector. Coran only stifled his laughter as he went to stand behind Allura and his couch.

Shiro knew he was no push over just from the way he stood. Militarily, like he had been in the top brass. They usually stood just a little cockier than lower ranks, born of pride. And as subdued as his stance might be, he definitely held the cockiness of top brass in his shoulders and chin.

Allura handed him a folder, before standing up. “I know it’s late, so I’ll keep this brief. However I will leave you with a file to read over, and if you decide to take position on my team, my number is inside the file.” She said. She brushed her hands smoothly against her skinny jeans, the stretchy kind probably if she could move like she did when they fought.

“I’ll leave you be for the night.” Allura said, starting for the door. Then she turned back with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “On a less formal note, why are you wearing a bullet proof vest without a shirt?”

Shiro smiled shortly to himself. Her eyes practically glowed when she was curious. “Shirts take a moment too much time for me to bother.” He said, followed by the removing his vests top straps. The door shut behind a squeak, Coran having left before Allura.

Shiro laughed lowly as he removed his vest completely and picked up the file. He would be unable to sleep now without reading it. Might as well get it over with.

Of course he didn’t agree until three days later.

Propriety and such. Plus he had to go over it with his family, and especially his little brother. And a lawyer per said brother’s demand.

But he did agree eventually.


	3. Recommended- Hunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk is recruited.

Hunk grunted as he pulled a wire free from the gigantic machine in front of him. His eyes narrowed against the sparks that flew into his face, despite the mask and goggles protecting him. He waited for the sparks to die before slipping off his goggles to get a cloer look. 

Technically that was unsafe, but he needed to look closely at what his hands were doing without the block of a pair of goggles. So long as no one knew, Hunk would be fine. He just needed to put his goggles back on his face whenever he left the underbelly of the mechanical beast in front of him. It was only a prototype, but his job was to make sure it works, or call it a fail if it doesn’t.

It was when Hunk had finally put the wire back that someone cleared their throat.

Hunk slipped his goggles back on and slipped out from under the machine, before just taking the mask and goggles off completely. Before him stood a man about half as big as Hunk himself in the width department, but who met him head on in height, and a pretty woman in a black dress. 

Hunk set his goggles and mask on the table beside him, tossing his thick rubber gloves on top. "Hello there. How can I help you two?" He asked. Hunk smiled kindly and crossed his arms loosely across his chest. 

"My name is Allura, and this is my partner Shiro. Is this a bad time?" The woman, Allura, replied. Hunk shrugged and turned to take them to the rec room, which was basically just a tiny room with a table, a counter, microwave and fridge. Cabinets were tucked under the sink, and two chairs were unfolded at the table already. Hunk gestured for the two of them to sit as he grabbed another from a slot between the fridge and the wall. 

He took notice of how both of them immediately sat so they faced parallel to the door. It was a movement easily recognizable when you know what to look for. A friend of his, a law enforcement officer, usually made the same seating arrangements. Where the door was in the line of sight, but where you didn't trap yourself against the wall with the exit blocked. 

Best of both worlds he always said. 

Able to see the door, and able to reach it too.

Hunk should get back in touch with him, it would be nice to catch up with someone who he can talk to about something other than mechanical, technological, or scientific in nature. Unless you count baking as a science. But it is really more of an art than a science. 

Or perhaps it's the other way around. You aren't supposed to mess with recipes too much when baking, because it doesn't turn out edible nine times out of ten. Baking has such specific needs to be met. It's cooking where people can creative and throw random things together and have a fifty- fifty chance of it turning out great.

"So what can I do you for?" Hunk said, a slight accent curling around the 'you'. He gets it from his grandma, and while Hunk isn't quite sure where it's from, he knows it's not American. And it only ever shows up when he's tired, like a slurring of words almost. 

"It's Hunk right? You have a friend named Katie Holt, correct?" Allura said. She seemed as if she wasn't expecting an answer, more like confirming her information out loud. But Hunk answered anyways, concern starting to creep in a little.

"She prefers Pidge, but yes. Is everything alright?" Hunk asked. He shifted in his seat, hating the creaking of the table as the weight shifts on top. He'd have to take care of that later. 

Shiro waved a hand in a dismissive manner, as if to shoo away Hunk’s worries. 

"It's fine, she's fine. We just gave her an offer to join us in an elite task force, and she recommended you." Shiro said, causing Hunk’s eyebrow to raise at the words 'task force'. He was ultimately more passive than aggressive so it wouldn't make much sense for him to join a task force. That usually means something dangerous, and he was A- okay with not doing dangerous things.

Hunk didn't say that of course.

When Hunk remained silent, Allura plowed on after Shiro. She told him what they would be expected to do, and the type of people they would face. Told him about Zarkon, who was international enemy numeral uno, and her plan. It was vague, leaving out important details, probably for security reasons.

Hunk told her he wasn't interested, and that he liked his current job plenty. She responded in kind by completely ignoring his rejection, trying to persuade him. 

He knew what she was doing, a typical railroad tactic people use in arguments. Talking over each other or ignoring something. Not to say that it actually works, usually doesn't. Didn't with Hunk at least. 

Up until she brought up the topic of pay. 

Now, don't get him wrong. Hunk isn't a greedy person. He doesn't care for material objects, and he doesn't fancy the 'finer things in life' all that much. Every once in a while? Yeah, fine, okay. But everyday?

No thanks. 

But what caught his attention would be the benefits and pay. Allura seemed to recognize it too, because she went into deeper detail. Compared to the check he rakes in every other week, the new paycheck is like taking a person from tents to mansions. 

With that kind of extra money, he could support his moms better. His Momma is diagnosed with a disease in the muscles, and needs treatment to be able to move around functionally. The medical bills aren't cheap, so Mom goes to work everyday to keep Momma's bills paid. Hunk pitches in too, but with this pay bump it would ease it all a lot more. 

The thought had Hunk biting down any more rejections so that he might listen better. Allura told him about benefits too. That she would be able to handle any medical, dental, and educational needs Hunk might have. 

She told him about his job expectations. He wouldn't be needed in the field more than likely and more often than not. He would be behind the scenes, with Pidge if she takes the offer, guiding the rest of the team. 

They would be responsible for Intel, technology backup, and equipment. They would also be required to travel a lot, but home base would be in the states. Hunk would also be equipped with all the latest technology and machines the government could supply, and Pidge anything she needed technology wise. 

Of course, should he join, there would be even more requirements of him. Like being trained in combat (which meant exercise, bleh). And being able to hold his own in the field if need be. 

Hunk was very concerned about that.

But then Shiro stepped in, telling Hunk that he wouldn't be required to go into the field until trained. Shiro also told him that they didn't even have the full team yet, so there was that. 

They talked to him, without Hunk giving any committed responses, for nearly an hour before Allura pulled a contract out, seemingly out of thin air and handed it to him. 

"Read this over, know it. Consult who you might consult about it, and let me know when you make up your mind. My number is inside the contract, as well as Shiro's." She said, completely professional. "Call us at any time, day or night. If we don't pick up, leave a message and your number and we will call you back as soon as possible." 

Hunk only nodded slowly, still dumbfounded and staring at the two inch thick contract in his hands. _Two inches_. He didn't even look up as the two of them left the room. Too stuck on what just transpired. 

They just walked in, said what needed to be said, and walked out. Just like that. No detours or pauses. It blew his mind how they both just took hold of the situation and went with it. 

And Pidge. 

They said she recommended him, but why him? Why Hunk? There are hundreds of other, more qualified people for this 'task force'. Hunk was just a mechanic, a kid too smart with machines, who caught NASA's attention in high school. 

And these people wanted _him?_

It's not like Hunk was some amazing inventor. That was Pidge’s thing. He just built the inventions or tinkered to make them work. No big deal. Anyone can pick up a wrench, play with a few nuts and bolts and wires and make something work out of sheer dumb luck. 

But this? 

How would he explain that anyways? 

_Mom, Momma, I quit my amazing job at NASA to join some task force to go after an untouchable international terrorist and probably die in the process._

Oh _yeah,_ that would smooth over real well with his mothers. They'll be ecstatic even. Their baby boy, throwing himself head first into danger and probably death. 

But then again.

He could use the money, have Allura cover the medical bills while Hunk took care of the house. Get the leaky roof fixed, repaint the walls, renovate the kitchen the three of them loved to spend time in. Hunk could finally provide the type of life they gave up to raise him.

And Mom could cut down her hours, spend more time at home with Momma. The two of them were getting on in their years, so it was only right that they spend time together more often. 

Maybe Hunk could push to get the surgery to remove whatever was diseased in her muscles. A tumor maybe? No that was cancer, right? Hunk never asked any details of the disease. It just hurt too much to know.

Hunk sighed before giving up and going to clock out. It past time to go home for the night anyways, might as well start reading this contract back to front. 

Maybe his law enforcement friend could pull some strings to get it checked over. Make sure it's legit, and in Hunk’s favor. 

It would be nice to catch up with Keith again anyways.


	4. Casual Supermodel- Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge goes to Allura’s house.

It was about two weeks after she was approached by Allura and Shiro that Pidge accepted the offer.

When they had first come to her, she had respectfully declined their offer. She had enough on her mind to worry about. Between her work at NASA and her _other_ job, she was just a bit too busy lately. But then the renewal of her contract came around last week, and she started thinking. 

She’s never found her place where she felt like she could belong. In high school she was bullied, so she opted to graduate early, and she had graduated as Valedictorian. After that colleges had just lined up to have her, to the point where she had to do nothing but pick, not even pay for tuition. She had full rides. 

College was a little fun, and she loved learning. Problem was she just had no one to spend her free time with. Everyone else was half a decade older than her or more. Add on the fact that she found human interaction difficult to manage sometimes, and it just makes people peg you as a loner.

Even at NASA, as much as she liked the work, she felt out of place. She was still the youngest, and treated differently because of it. The older scientists and engineers acted as if the only reason she was there at all was her connection to the Holts. Her father and brother were both intelligent scientists that were chosen to be astronauts on the next launch. 

With them as a buffer, Pidge loved her job, but ever since the crash she's felt alone. Isolated. Like maybe she just wasn't completely human. It's why she switched contracts after the first one ended. 

Things were different when her family disappeared. 

She was friendless, except for a kind mechanical engineer in the opposite side of the building she worked in. They sometimes caught each other at lunch and spent their hour of free time just talking about science stuff. 

He was the only person who knew what her other job was.

When Allura and Shiro rolled around, Pidge had declined, and instead she suggested they consider her friend, who was curiously nicknamed Hunk. But now, as the end of her contract comes up, Pidge thinks maybe she will take up the offer. 

She needed a new change of scenery, and the connections Allura and Shiro had were invaluable. Besides, Shiro was all that remained of her father and brother. They had all been in the launch, astronauts taking to space. Pidge had met Shiro a few times before, but not enough to really know him. She would change that.

So here she stood, staring down a door to a veritable mansion of a house- it wasn't really that big, but it sure felt like it. Maybe two or three stories, an attic judging by the triangular roof. Or just a really tall ceiling. Lots of windows, but curtains were pulled over most of them. 

The brick walls gleamed a rusty red that just screamed history, and the front porch was mahogany wood, stretching the length of the front wall of the house, and curling along the right side. 

Stepping stones carved a path across the lawn to the driveway to the left of the house, which stopped just before the shed or garage. All in all the house was gorgeous, rustic and aged well. Built back when buildings were still made for strength and beauty rather than cheapness.

Pidge walked from her car, a neon green jeep covered in mud splatter, to the front door, hopping along the stepping stones. The house belonged to Allura Harlow, the politician who came to her with Shiro.

She breathed in a steadying breath. 

Pidge raised her fist to the door and knocked three times sharply, before placing her hands behind her back to wait. It wasn’t a long wait, maybe a minute or two. In that span of time between her knocking and the door opening, Pidge had turned to leave a total of three times. 

The door opened just as she was about to turn to leave again, that time for real. Allura Harlow stood behind the open door. She was dressed casually compared to the last time Pidge had seen her. At that time, a sharp black dress had hugged her figure down to her waist before it flared out in a high-low skirt. Baby pink heels and a matching purse were the only color on her. 

Pidge can remember her first impression being that Allura was a little uppity. 

Now Allura stood in a salmon pink tank top, paired with gray leggings that stopped just below her knee. Her pretty white hair was twisted up in a very large bun, plenty of loose strands framing her face and neck. 

 _Wow, even dressed casual she looks like a supermodel,_ Pidge thought.

She glanced around, her blue eyes sharp despite the casual look on her face and outfit. “Katie Holt.” Allura said. Pidge went to correct her, _again_ , when Allura corrected herself for her. “Forgive me, I meant Pidge. Come in, please.” 

Pidge took her offer and entered the house. 

The inside was just as rustic as the outside, full of unnecessary tables in the hall holding vases of flowers. Lots of pink roses. Allura must _really_ like the color pink. The foyer was wide and open, with a staircase opposite the front door, and two archways on the side walls that branched into other areas of the house.

Pidge followed Allura as she led the way to the living room, eyes taking in all the interesting sights of Allura’s house. Her nose itched with the urge to sneeze from all the floral scents assaulting her.

The living room was very open and colorful, bright colors assaulting Pidge’s eyes in a somewhat pleasing display. The two walls facing the outside were glass windows, and the two walls that were inside were a pretty baby blue. The floor was tile, with a sort of bright blue watercolor design, ceiling raised. The wall to the right, which was where the door to the foyer sat, only went up about half way. The second floor opened up into a balcony type setting with a railing, and in the far right corner was a purple spiraled staircase. The light purple couch faced the windows, with a huge flat screen TV on a stand. The most eye drawing part of the living room however, was the pink curtains. 

Or well, it was for Pidge anyways. 

Just, _really?_ Who needs _that_ much pink?

Allura sat down on the couch and turned to face Pidge, who sat on the other end. Allura sat very pristine, as if she were having tea with the queen and not talking to NASA scientist about a task force she's starting up.

"So," Allura started after a moment of awkward silence, all smiles and ease. "What brings you to my home, Ms. Holt?" Pidge scrunched her nose in response to the monicker. It just sounded far too stiff for her taste. 

"Just Pidge is fine." She replied evenly. "And I'm here about the task force you asked me to join." 

Allura nodded, threading her fingers through the loose strands of her white hair as she leaned her arm over the back of the couch. One blonde eyebrow- and yes, it's blonde not white- raised to her forehead. Pidge decided not to delay.

"I've decided I want to join you in your impossible task." Pidge said. "On one condition." 

Allura pursed her lips slightly, tilting her head more into her hand so the fingers slipped into the base of the bun. "And what might that be?" She asked politely.

Pidge reached into her jacket pocket, which was a lime green hoodie that zipped in the front, and pulled out the photo of herself, her brother Matt, and her father, just before they launched into space. She handed it to Allura, who pinched the corner delicately.

"Help me find my family." Pidge said, fingers crossed in her lap. It was the only option she had. For a year she's hacked into every database and network across the globe for some tiny smidgen of information. She's come up with very little, and Shiro's return notified her of their crash in Zarkon’s territory. Of course, that was in the NASA database already, but the FBI launched a full investigation and came up with nothing. Nothing more than their captor's affiliation. 

With Allura, Shiro, and whoever else is on the team, they can go after Zarkon’s forces and that's the best lead she has to reuniting her family. If Allura doesn't agree, then Pidge isn't sure she'll be able to find them on her own. Matt used to say that it was always okay to ask for help if she needed it. 

Well, she needed it. 

"Your family, Matt and Sam Holt. Scientists on the space launch that Shiro was apart of correct?" Allura asked. She was still looking down at the photo, a finger caressing the worn edges. Her tone was more intrinsic, like she already knew the answer.

Pidge answered anyways. "Yes, my brother and father." 

Allura made a soft humming noise in the back of her throat, before smiling and handing the picture back to Pidge. Now the hand in her hair was wrapping a strand around her finger.

“We have a deal, Pidge.” Allura said.

Pidge practically melted in relief.


	5. Blue Lion- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro tries to recruit Keith.

Keith had been knee deep in his files on Blue Lion when his brother knocked on the door. Usually, when interrupted in the middle of his thought process on this _infuriating_ case, Keith would not be happy. He would have snapped at the person, no matter if they were a King from another country, or if they were his overprotective big brother. Keith wouldn’t have held back.

But his thoughts were already so jumbled up and ready to send Keith to the loony bin, that he actually appreciated the distraction. He swirled around in his chair, which might as well have been an extra body part from how long he was sitting there. In the doorway stood his obnoxiously muscular older brother.

Don’t get him wrong, Keith adored hs brother Shiro.

When he was eleven, and was first brought home to the Shirogane household, he had met Shiro for the first time. And it was like Shiro just became God in his eyes. To this day Keith couldn’t tell you the moment he stopped hating this family he loves so dearly now, to when he was suddenly practically worshipping the ground that Shiro walked upon.

It could have been when they first locked eyes. Or it could have been when Shiro bailed him out of school to get some ice cream a week later. Maybe when Shiro left for another tour overseas. Perhaps it was long before the first meeting though. 

When the Shirogane couple he calls Mom and Dad now first came to the orphanage, Keith was their first choice. They had talked to him maybe twice, told him about Shiro, when Keith had demanded to know why he wasn’t with them.

They gave him a letter, one he still has hidden in his house somewhere. 

It was a letter from Shiro, and it said, in summary, that Shiro wanted the choice of adoption to be up to his parents and not to Shiro. There were so many kind words crammed into a single sheet of notebook paper, that Keith had immediately ran to his room in the orphanage to hide it. 

So, yeah. Keith loves Shiro dearly. But the amount of hours in his day just spent working out or cleaning, especially after getting the new arm, was ridiculous. Sure, it looks good on him, and he wasn’t exactly the size of a mountain, but still. Chill dude.

“Shiro, what’s up?” Keith asked, eyeing his brother who simply stood leaning in his doorframe. They were in his office at the FBI headquarters, which was a fancy little area, small but cozy. Nice view, not too much furniture- just Keith’s style. Shiro smiled fondly down at him, and Keith knew it was a fond smile, because only one corner of his lips lifted.

“Just came to talk. Got a minute, or am I interrupting?” Shiro asked as he stepped off the frame and stepped inside, letting the door swing gently closed. It was glass, because there was a lot of glass walls and doors in this building. 

“Please.” Keith said, rubbing his sore eyes. He needed a coffee, or five. “I’m begging you to kill me right now.” Shiro only gave short scoff before dragging out a chair and taking a seat.

Keith watched with lidded eyes as his brother scanned the table piled up with Keith’s most infamous case. It was separated into two halves. The first half of the pile, to Keith’s right, was directly involving his criminal, named Blue Lion.

It wasn’t very much, maybe three folders worth of actual information and two boxes full of origami lions made out of Blue paper. Hence the name. Each lion was about the size of a softball, and they were intricately designed.

Should you line each lion up from oldest to newest, you could physically see the skill get more and more perfected. But Shiro’s already seen all of that. Even the folders of information, no matter that Keith could lose his job for it.

It was the second pile that was more interesting. Keith has pulled every case file he’s done since becoming an FBI agent, and he’s been steadily combing through them for any similarities. Like connections to each other and connections to Blue Lion. It was just a hunch he had.

Recently, someone Keith put in prison had recognized keith right off the bat. When questioned, the man had simply said ‘Blue was right about you.’ Refused to speak at all after that, no matter how long the interrogations went, or if Keith was or wasn’t in the room. The man had said nothing, not even to taunt the interrogators, which was a very common reaction from guys like him. So after that, it got Keith wondering just how many people he’s gone after who had connections to his number one case.

“What’s all this?” Shiro asked. His eyebrow was raised and a curious glint in his eye sparked. Keith’s always hated that glint in his brother’s eyes, because most of the time it gets Keith into unwanted situations. Like a double date with twin girls. 

Keith is _gay._

“These are all the cases that I’ve done since I joined the FBI. I’m looking for any correlations between my old cases and the Blue Lion case.” Keith said. Goodness, even _he_ could hear how exhausted he sounded.

Shiro looked back at Keith briefly, before he did that thing he does when he’s hiding something or being nonchalant to get his way. It’s hard to put a name to what it is, but Keith knows it by heart.

Because he taught Shiro how to hide things and lie to their parents.

Before Keith came along, Shiro was horrible at lying and keeping secrets from his family. And at first, Shiro was perfectly fine with that. Up until the moment when Keith got away with something Shiro never would have. The look of astonishment was priceless. After that Shiro shyly asked Keith to show him how to do it.

“What if I told you,” Shiro started. He had gone as far as poking at the left pile to keep up a charade in front of Keith. It was useless. One, Shiro was too obvious when you knew what to look for. Two, Keith had been both a detective and an FBI agent for a while now. Kind of part of the job description to read people. "That I made some friends who could help you out in the Blue Lion case?“ Shiro said, still thumbing the edges of a stack of files. It got Keith’s interest at least, and Keith leaned forward. 

He was definitely awake now.

Shiro never tried to help anymore, Keith had been too irritable to let people help him on this case. Any other case? He loved to have someone else’s opinion. Not the Blue Lion case though. Keith felt it in his bones that he had to be the one to catch this guy, no one else. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe it was just him desperately wanting to prove himself to his old mentor. 

Or maybe it was both. 

He never wanted help with catching the Blue Lion, but at this point Keith would take anything. It’s almost been three years since he was handed down the case from his mentor and boss. Three years working on this case all alone.

Three years of chasing smoke while his suspect avoided him like a pro.

"Listening…” Keith said, trailing off. If it meant finally being able to sleep at night without obsessing over this case, he would bend his pride and accept an offering of assistance.

It had been after his fourth closed case, which was a counterfeiting ring bust that ended with a boat load of bad guys in prison, when his mentor had approached Keith about the Blue Lion. It wasn’t a secret that his friend, practically a God among mortals when it comes to closing cases, had been having no progress on this one single case.

Said he was tired of the case haunting him, and that it was his greatest regret on not being able to close it himself.

He had told Keith that he was stepping out of field work, and handing Blue Lion over to Keith. Keith had dutifully taken the mantle and spent the next week combing over the three pages worth of information. Which wasn’t a lot, but by the end of the week Keith knew the details of the case back to front.

After about three months of chasing geese, his mentor had given Keith a new case, putting Blue Lion on the back burner. Anyone sane in his profession would have deemed it a lost cause. But Keith was too invested.

Why?

Because his mentor, friend, and boss deserved to see the case closed by someone he trusted to take over it. Over the three years working this case, Keith has nailed down every potential lead. There were maybe three people he put in lock up who had suspected ties to the Blue Lion, but interrogation offered nothing more than sarcasm and snark. 

Either these men were extremely loyal to Blue Lion, or they were terrified of him. 

Keith was almost afraid to find out which one it was.

“You remember how I told you about the new job offer, the one I agreed to take on?” Shiro asked. He had finally stopped messing with the files to try and look casual, now leaning his side against the table from where he sat, his chin propped up on his hand.

Keith nodded but didn’t reply.

“So far we, Allura and I, have recruited two more people to be on the team.” Shiro said after he realized Keith wasn’t going to reply with his words, as per typical of Keith. 

Allura. Keith remembers her. 

A white haired bombshell with more power in her pinky finger than the past four presidents combined. Shiro introduced the two of them at lunch one day maybe a week ago. And with how those two interacted, one would think they were already married for a decade. 

The sexual tension was disgusting.

“One them specifically, is a computer genius who used to work for NASA, and also well versed in hacking and breaching high level security databases.” Shiro said. Keith pretended he didn’t hear that, but didn’t interrupt Shiro. “She’s a bit younger, but she’s good. Remember Matt? From the space launch?” Shiro asked.

Matt? Keith vaguely remembers him. They never met face to face, but they did say hello one time when Shiro was doing a video call. Matt was one of the scientists who accompanied Shiro to space, and were also taken prisoner by the same terrorist group Shiro escaped from. He nodded to Shiro’s question anyways. 

“Katie, or Pidge as she prefers, Matt’s little sister, is the NASA scientist I’m talking about.” Shiro continued. “She can be a really big asset when going after Blue Lion, look at things you might have never even thought about thinking about.”

Keith pushed his tongue into his left cheek as he thought, considering this new turn of events. Then a thought hit him that had his eyes narrowing suspiciously at his brother. “And what? You’re just gonna give her to me like some sort human pet to use as I desire regarding the case?” 

Shiro cringed, his nose scrunching and bunching the scar on his nose up as he did so. “When you say it like that it sounds like I’m pimping her out or something.” Keith quirked his lips a little at that, because that was what he was going for in the first place.

“So what do you want in return for her helping me?” Keith asked, not beating around the bush and going straight into it.

Shiro sighed as if he held the world on his shoulder, which wasn’t too far from how Shiro carried himself. He was always the first to volunteer when someone needed to unload their own burdens. He was an extremely empathetic person, feeling someone else’s pain as if it were his own. And though it wasn’t the best of things to be when in the war zone, Shiro never let it hold him back.

It was one of the many things that Keith admired about Shiro.

“I can’t just help my baby brother?” Shiro said, his voice raising a notch in a classic tell for lying. Keith raised an eyebrow at Shiro, who caved in far too soon for someone who could survive a year in Zarkon’s captivity and escape.

“Okay fine. I want you to consider joining Allura’s task force with me. You know? We could bond and watch each other’s backs and all that. I think it would be fun.” Shiro finished weakly with a shrug. Keith rolled his eyes, but caved as well at Shiro’s puppy eyes.

“I’ll think about it. When do I meet this Pidge?” He asked. A new, and very unfamiliar voice sounded behind him, making Keith spin around, his hand already placed on his gun just in case.

“How about right now?” Said a short female with choppy cropped strawberry blonde hair and thick rimmed glasses. She was dressed in a pair of shorts, which barely peaked out from her lime green hoodie, zipped halfway up her body. Her brown eyes were sharp, even sharper than Allura’s were when they met. Speaking of the white haired bombshell, she appeared in his doorway behind the short female, as well as a very large man with a headband. 

“I’m Pidge, and this is my friend Hunk. We’re on the task force with your brother Shiro.” Pidge said, pushing up her glasses with a jacket covered hand. She looked kind of childish right then. “Shall we start then?”


	6. Interesting Faces- Blue(Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blue Lion's (Lance's) perspective on a heist.

He held his breath as waited for the footsteps to pass by. His heart was beating fast, the rush of a heist pumping the natural aphrodisiac of adrenaline through his veins. It was what he did it all for. The rush, the high, the threat of getting caught and the feeling of walking on air when a heist goes well. 

He's not sure what a heist gone wrong feels like, so he can't compare. 

To the feds, he's known as the Blue Lion. To the underground, he's known as the Prince, second only to another legend long past. He prefers Blue when he isn't using an alias. 

The footsteps fade, and Blue presses up against the wall of the little broom closet he's in. His prize was already in hand, an original Rousseau painting from the late 17th century. He had the painting rolled up delicately, slung over his shoulder in a container. Getting in was the easy part for once, the museum holding a new exhibit on the other side of the building. 

Most personnel has been transferred to the new age exhibit to handle the high class guests looking to buy. It left the rest of the building fairly low in security, or at least lower than usual that is. This particular museum was infamous in his circles to be nigh impenetrable. 

Three different forms of security cameras, each linked to a different source. Four types of locking mechanisms. One kind on the outer doors, the lowest of the four in security. Another per exhibit. Another for the cases displaying the art, and one more as a sort of silent alarm. 

Add on to that the security guards constantly patrolling in five minute passes, as well as the museum workers, and you have yourself a modern fortress.

Getting past the cameras were simple when he had the pick of the litter in small time criminals who could all simultaneously cut their designated feeds. The outer door was a no brainer, since it's open hours, the exhibits too. Those doors are all open for the guests. The case was tricky, requiring a minimum of five minutes of concentration. The silent alarm was probably already set off, so he only had minutes before cops arrived.

Agent Kogane in particular. 

Blue stretched across the empty closet and planted his feet on the wall in front of him, lifting himself off the ground. His hands were down by his sides, gripping at the wall to shimmy upwards. It took a few minutes, but he was able to finally be perpendicular to his escape route, an air vent ten feet off the ground. 

Blue paused a moment when more footsteps could be heard below him, not quite as leisurely as before. That meant the 'misplaced' Rousseau was discovered, and things were going to get interesting soon. He locked his trembling legs in place so that he could use his hands. 

Now don't get him wrong, his legs are powerful, but they weren't going to last forever. 

He reached into his shirt, a black skintight outfit he designed for heists that don't require a disquise. There were folds and pockets on both sides of his chest, zipped in the front to be easily removed. His pants were like a cross between cargo pants due to all the pockets, and tights from how close to his skin it clings. Underneath his outfit was a pair of board shorts and a tank top. 

The pocket he went into was reserved for the small hand tools he would be needing to unscrew the vent. It was a little plastic container, which opened like a CD case, with three double sided pockets. It was about the size of a handheld clasp purse. Each side was dedicated to different specific tools. Multiple sizes of slot head screwdrivers on one side, sizes of phillips heads on the other. A lock pick set for simpler locks, and a lock pick set for higher tech locks. A pair of wire cutters and pliers on one side, and on the last side a stack of flattened blue paper. 

They were his signature lion origami on standby. 

He pulls out a phillips head screwdriver and quickly unscrews the vent cover. He slips his case back into his jacket and scoots even higher, and then let's out a slow breath as police sirens roll up. _He's running out of time._ Blue maneuvers so that his body is parallel to the face of the empty vent, keeping the cover balanced on his stomach. 

When he gets how he wishes to be, he slips the vent cover into the ventilation shaft, and flips so that now his body was arched and he was relying on hands and feet on keeping him held up. He closes his gloved hands on the lip of the open vent and shifts as he hears commotion of people storming by the door. He closes his eyes and let's his feet drop off the wall. His body falls hard to the wall, the thud softened only by the planting of his feet on landing. 

Blue doesn't waste time in seeing if they noticed the noise over their own, and pulls himself into the ventilation shaft. After that it's only two turns and a brief two foot climb and he's making his way out on to the roof. He stands up and dusts himself off, blinking against the sting of sunlight burning in his eyes. 

Blue creeps his way along the roof, staying low as he makes his way to the edge to gauge the damage. He's peeking his eyes over the edge of the roof just in time to see a familiar unmarked car pull up. A smirk curls on his lips as he watches Kogane step out of the driver seat with a scowl. Almost immediately Kogane starts taking over, and only a few seconds passes when a new car pulls up.

It's one that makes Blue choke on his own disbelief.

That is, because a lime green jeep covered in so much mud it should be illegal stops just beside Kogane's sleek car. He scoots forward just a bit and watches as four people step out of the car, not including the driver. A short woman carrying her weight in computer stuff comes out of the shotgun seat. Out of the back on either side are two men giant in their own way. 

One was big in the sense of, well, weight, the other in muscle. The muscled one turns and offers his hand to someone in the car. Out steps a white haired goddess. Blue feels his eyebrows shoot up at the four new faces as they get waved over by Kogane. 

What is this, a _zoo exhibit?_

Why the hell is Kogane waving in four people into a crime scene? More specifically, _his_ crime. Did Kogane-? Did Kogane get help to catch him?

Blue brings out his phone and snaps a picture of all four newbies, making sure to get a good shot of the faces. It's in that moment when things flip around. Blue must have left his flash on, or maybe it was the sun off of his phone case. Whatever it was that gets Kogane's attention, it works. 

The two of them lock eyes. 

Now Blue is two stories high, but even from that distance, he feels the zing when familiar lilac eyes lock with his own. It only lasts a moment, one where he watches Kogane's eyes widen comically before there's shouting and running and activity. He only waits enough time to smirk at Kogane, his upper face concealed by a mask. 

Then he's taking off and launching to the next rooftop with a jolt to his system. He runs across the rooftop of the building, simultaneously pulling up his hood as he prepares to disappear. He turns at the sound of the door on the museum building slamming open, and Blue looks across the two buildings to lock eyes with Kogane again. His foot is planted on the edge of the roof, and there's no way for him to get to the next building because it's at least four stories too high. 

Blue watches as Kogane runs to the edge of his building, preparing to launch across the gap between buildings when he's yanked backwards by the muscle. From here Blue can see the prosthetic and scar and smirks as he recognizes who is yanking Kogane back onto the roof, who is yanking equally hard to get to Blue. 

He steps up onto the ledge, preparing to drop onto the fire escape below him, still facing Kogane and the people behind him. Kogane's voice yells across the rooftops, carried helpfully by the wind that picks up suddenly and he looks back.

"Stop! FBI!" Kogane shouts, his gun in hand but not raising fast enough. Blue cheerily smiles and offers Agent Kogane a two fingered wave before he drops onto the fire escape. Then just like that, Blue disappears into the crowd that had gathered around the perimeter of the crime scene, slipping his suit off before he leaves the alleyway, and stuffing it into his duffle bag, which was stashed near the fire escape before the heist went down. 

He goes into the crowd casually, hands in his pockets, and turning back in time to watch as police surround the alley entrance. He digs into the duffle and slips on a baseball cap and sunglasses, smirking all the while as a furious shout resonates over the sound of the crowd and police sirens. 

_Interesting indeed._


	7. Jewelry Store- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith catches a new lead.

First thing Keith did was throw something at a wall in his office. 

He couldn’t make a scene in public, the press were riding his ass about the Blue Lion too much. They were probably having a field day now. That is, until all of their footage was confiscated for evidence, which is Pidge’s job to get done however she sees fit. Within reason and the law of course. This was the closest he was to finding out exactly _who_ his criminal was, and to take him off the streets for good.

Didn’t stop him from kicking himself over everything though.

Stupid Shiro, stopping Keith from following Blue Lion. Stupid gun, not raising fast enough to get a shot off. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _He was so close!_ Literally yards away, and yet Keith felt as lost as he was when he was first given the case. Yards away, and still untouchable. How does the man do it? Speaking of, at least they can accurately classify the Blue Lion as a male now, unless this guy was just the decoy. 

Or a copycat.

Keith has had to painstakingly memorise every line and fold and detail of the origami lions in order to distinguish between imposters and the real deal. Whoever Blue Lion really was, they were almost OCD in the shape the lions are in when found. No extra creases of mistakes, no DNA, no tears, no change. The only time the lion’s shapes change is when another person becomes an imposter, wanting the infamous glory of Blue Lion. 

Keith’s contacts in the underground network claim the Blue Lion as the ‘Prince of Criminals’. And no matter how deep his informant dig they can’t seem to find anything solid. Just rumours, things even the lowest on the food chain can make as a claim to truth. And every single time someone makes a claim, Keith has to follow up on it as lead investigator. 

There’s no telling how many times he’s had an expert check for forgeries in the art department. Or for missing pieces that aren’t on display. Hundreds probably. It was mostly just another dead end, every once in a while turning up a whole separate case.

Shiro’s new team of _whatevers_ were his last hope of catching this guy.

Experts on everything from art forgeries, to serial killer profiling have been in his office. The same office that now has a hole in the wood paneling. _Oh boy,_ was he going to catch heat for that. His mentor and boss doesn’t like it when people break his things. 

Mainly Keith. _Only_ Keith. 

So he had a temper, _big deal._ Breaking things was therapeutic for his soul.

Keith sighed after staring out of his window for an hour and began cleaning up the broken mug or whatever was shattered on the floor beneath the hole. It’s been all of three days since the latest Blue Lion sighting, _and in his own city for heaven’s sake!_ Blue Lion was either getting bolder, or stupider. And he’s said it once, he’ll say it again.

He’s almost afraid to- 

Keith’s thoughts were cut off by the shrill ring of his phone, the one he had specifically for Blue Lion tips and such. It jolted him out of his thoughts so hard he sliced open his hand and hissed like a cat at the sting. He was pressing a paper towel to the cut across his hand while he picked up, only half listening. Up until the point where it was mentioned another sighting of his criminal happened in a small time jewelry store. 

_Jewelry store? Really?_

Had to be another imposter, Blue Lion would never stood to such petty targets. But Keith still had to check it out. He reluctantly called Shiro and told him the location. It was part of the agreement. Keith gets some help on his case and in return he has to think about joining the taskforce or whatever, as well as bringing them along to all crime scenes. Hopefully they all learned proper crime scene etiquette last time. 

The green jeep splattered in mud was too eye drawing, which meant more bystanders, which meant more bodies in blue pushing back the crowd. Which then led to more boots trampling all over his evidence. No offense to the city’s finest, but it’s just another _perk_ of the job. Keith had no time to beat around the bush anymore. His day was jammed packed already without adding pandering to the masses to the list. 

He was halfway to his car, the one issued to him by his bosses, when another car parked right next to him. A car filled with five other people. Those people being his older brother’s friends. And the car being some fancy, no top sports car in a baby pink. Driven by the current interest of his brother’s eye, Allura. 

_Great,_ as if his day could get any worse.


	8. Meow Kitty- Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team arrives at the crime scene; an old friend (original character) of Pidge's comes to help.

“Is it just me or is he stalking us?” Was the first thing Pidge said after they discovered Blue Lion’s little blue lion at the crime scene. 

Nothing had been stolen, and nothing had been touched. She was no forensic expert, but she did know someone who was the best in the field, and even her contact couldn’t find Blue Lion’s DNA. The only thing left as evidence of the criminal’s whereabouts was the origami lion on the counter in plain sight.

It wasn’t the only thing found though.

Beneath the origami lion so intricately folded it made Pidge cringe, was a piece of paper. One with four pictures, all of which were the team. Allura was first, looking off to the right with an eyebrow raised and hair done immaculately. 

She’s dressed in a flowing, knee length, deep blue dress with straight pink trimming framing her body. It looked expensive even in the photo. She was standing with her arms crossed waiting at a crosswalk Pidge remembered being right before the turn onto her street. 

Next to her was Shiro. He was in a workout outfit, obviously just leaving from a gym. He was mid-step as he walked down a sidewalk. One hand was pushing back the white hair out of his face, while the other swung at his side with a water bottle. Headphones were in his ears loosely. 

His head was turned just slightly to look behind him.

After Shiro was Hunk. Like usual, the big guy was smiling widely, so wide his eyes were crinkling and squinting. He was in the midst of working at a soup kitchen, obvious by the person in ragged and patchwork clothing in front of him he was handing food to. He looked squished in the small serving window of the kitchen, and his headband was askew. 

The most surreal was Pidge herself, who was last.

It was in the middle of the morning, and she only know that because there are three empty coffee cups scattered around her as she sat in a diner. Another full one was in her hand, the steam clearly fogging her glasses, which were sliding down her nose so she could see the computer better. Pidge in the picture was scowling. For some people, it would be obvious what day this was taken, but this was a daily occurrence for her. 

Underneath their faces were the words in big print, not marker or pen, _‘Fresh blood Kogane?’._ It made her shiver, because she couldn’t decide if the pictures screamed threat or not. On one hand, most people would think this was a threat, but she’s gone over all the evidence gathered over the years in Blue Lion’s file. 

Less like a threat when it happens all the time. 

Every once in a while Blue Lion would leave a note for Kogane along with his little origami. Messages were usually antagonistic, or mocking, but never once was it a threat. Or one she could discern anyways. Messages were like, _‘Too little too late Kogane’_ or _‘Strike three K’_ and even _‘Your like a kitten when mad. Meow Kitty’._ It seems more like this guy just liked the game of cat and mouse between the two of them. Excuse the joke.

She couldn’t say the same for Keith though.

One glance at the note, not even going as far as picking the paper up, and the guy about faced and marched out. His face was carefully neutral, but even Pidge could see how his eye twitched, and most of the time she was too far into the computer screens to notice what’s going on around her.

Nobody responded to her comment, but she did get a little smile from Hunk, albeit a wobbly one. _Progress._ She waited for the rest of them to stop looking at the picture, without touching, since none of them brought gloves and she wanted to preserve the evidence. Then she got impatient when they took two seconds too long and used her notoriously sharp elbows to move everyone out of the way. 

Hunk was the smart one who moved away first before he could fall victim.

“Alright enough gawking, let Gerard do his job.” Pidge said, despite Gerard, her forensic expert flown in from the southwest, still talking to the first on scene police officers a few feet away. At the very least, the sound of his name had him wrap up shortly and do the job she hired him for. He owed her tons of favours, so at least she needn’t actually pay him cash except for the plane ticket, and he’s staying at her place so no hotel charges either.

Gerard was a gawky, geeky, lanky beanpole of a guy, with a little acne but great hair. Real fluffy, real fun to play with and braid. One time, when they were still college kids, him being half a decade older than her still, but the only person she really talked to, her family thought she was dating him. Or screwing him if you asked Matt. 

_Asshole._

But Gerard is gay. The kind of gay that everyone jokes is gay but don’t realize it’s true because he’s so deep in the closet he’s Narnia’s King. _That_ kind of gay. Where he’s from, homophobia is a real big problem, which was why he refused to say anything until after her mother started casually mentioning wedding plans. 

Boy was that a trip. 

After Gerard literally blurted himself out of Narnia, Mom got surprised for point three seconds before her lips literally curled like the Grinch’s. Except more devious. Then she started trying to set Gerard up with Matt. That was fun to watch. Especially after enduring a hard twenty minutes of _‘Oh Katie! He’s so handsome!’_ and _‘Katie how long have you two been together?’_ and _‘I know the greatest wedding planner! She planned your father and I’s wedding!’._

And then to top it all off, she started bringing up adoption statistics. 

Momma Holt may not have been born with the famous Holt genius gene, her words, but she sure as hell knew how to mortify her children. Not even Dad, the one who’s always trying to keep Mom’s embarrassing factor to at least a six out of ten, couldn’t stop it from skyrocketing straight to eleven. 

Poor Gerard never went to another Holt family dinner again.

Pidge smirked to herself as she watched Gerard look an officer up and down across the room, before turning away, her friends having left in the midst of her walk down memory lane. They didn’t go far, just waiting by the car and talking. Hunk was already writing in his notepad, which is half full on notes about crime scene and police officers and the work law enforcement does and how and why and a whole bunch of other junk. He was real into the inner workings of things, so this was like a goldmine, seeing first hand the progress of a crime scene from the cops’ perspectives.

They all looked up at Pidge as she approached, waiting for her so they can leave and follow Keith back to FBI headquarters, but she waved them off. She had a few things to look over first since she was here already, might as well do it now. Besides, Gerard drove her SUV here, still in green like her jeep. The SUV was Matt’s though, and he prefers dark green which is just gross but whatever. They can carpool back to her place and he can walk her through his initial findings.

After that, she needed to interview Keith about the Blue Lion.


	9. Casualties- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is interrogated by Pidge.

_She’s worse than I am,_ Keith thought, equal parts impressed and annoyed with just a pinch of amusement on the side. Mainly annoyance though. Pidge, the ‘she’ in question, was interrogating him as if they were in some bad action movie.

No kidding.

She dragged him to the interrogation room at HQ, sat him down where his criminals usually sit, and took his seat for herself. The lights were off, and it wasn’t a windowed room, so it meant pitch blackness. On the table sat a desk lamp, responsible for the sweat dripping down into his collar, pointed directly in his face and blinding him.

Pidge talked like a movie cop, moved around like a movie cop, slammed her hands on the table dramatically like a movie cop. Got in his face, yelled at him. She was so good at this role she chose to play it was scary.

She’s so good he actually feels as if he’s guilty for a crime.

She’s too good for NASA. Pidge should have been an FBI agent. Maybe instead of Keith joining the task force, (which was still up in the air anyways) he could persuade Pidge to join the FBI. No doubt she would fit in nicely if this is how she does interrogations, at least she would with Keith anyway.

The craziest part?

She was _just_ questioning him on Blue Lion’s habits and history. Like, he would have gladly told her anything and everything she wanted to know. Without being forced to endure this interrogation straight out of a movie.

All of her questions are about the littlest of details Keith had picked up on about the Blue Lion. Such as his target patterns, there weren’t any except for the origami lions. Most hits were art related. He had even stolen an entire wall where a mosaic was.

Now _that,_ that was an interesting take in the case.

The chaos of that day was astounding. First, Keith closed two big cases, one right after the other, both getting lots of press. Which meant he spent the morning at a press conference directly after closing these two cases and then had 'the call’ in the middle of a luncheon with the governor. 'The call’ contained information about the Blue Lion case, which was completely credible according to the agents he assigned to that specific task. In the middle of the day, center of town, he went to some big private art auction, expecting another painting to be stolen.

Instead he’s led through the building to see a wall-less room, the missing wall in question having been cut out of the structure. A concrete wall, which held a mosaic of something involving religion or something, just ripped out of the wall.

Keith can remember that day as clear as the purest of crystals. How the people in the room had all taken a step or two away from him, expecting his legendary anger outburst. At the time, which was around two years ago, he still had yet to control his emotion behind his badge. The entire room had frozen as the bravest of them all, a newbie who had yet to witness a Kogane outburst, explained to Keith in detail of what was happening.

No witnesses. No video. No evidence. Just a little blue lion sitting in the dust left behind from the missing wall. And Keith? He surprised them all with what he did next, even himself as well.

He remembered his whole body trembling, starting at his hands, then his lips. He felt himself holding his breath until it hurt, biting his tongue. And he burst out laughing. Full on rolling on the floor, tears in his eyes, gut clenching, hysteria inducing laughter.

A fucking _wall._

Blue lion stole a fucking _wall. **And got away with it!**_

Pidge slammed her hands down hard on the table, shocking him out of his amusing reminiscing. He sighed, about done with her antics. Keith sat back in his chair, running a hand down his face to wipe away the sweat, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension. Pidge was starting to agitate him. Didn’t she ever learn not to poke the sleeping bear?

She moved really close to his face, washing herself with light as her nose nearly brushed his. She was glaring at him, hard, leaning over the table like it was the only thing keeping her from attacking. _Damn she was good._ Keith must have missed a question, or something, because she wasn’t even wearing her glasses to glare at him. They were pinched between her fingers on the table.

After only a few seconds of this awkward and uncomfortable silence he broke, pushing away from the table with a metal on metal screech and marching out of the room, trying to make himself look presentable again. Pidge clambered after him, whining that she wasn’t done, completely breaking her character.

Keith still didn’t stop or turn around. He knew better than to look at her pouty face, the girl was a master of manipulation just by her puppy dog eyes. Why do you think he agreed to do this in the first place? She resorted to following him silently, the sound of her childish stomps the only noise she makes. Keith still didn’t stop even as he pushed the doors open to the main office, where everyone just stopped.

And stared.

Even Keith felt as his ears turned red from all the attention. His coworkers, his friends, and subordinates. They were all staring at him with amusement and mocking. Some were still in the middle of flipping pages of files, or mid step, and even, god save him, _eating._ At their _desk._ Keith marched up to the stairs leading to the loft, where the actual offices are. Where his own was. About mid stairs he flipped around angrily, annoyed at the attention he was still getting, giving up on his tie and yanking it off. Bad enough he had to deal with the press sometimes because his mentor wouldn’t.

“What do you think you’re looking at? Get back to work! And Christopher no food at your desk!” Keith yelled before marching into his office with mutters, the redness spreading from his ear to his neck and face. Behind him, past the sulking Pidge, there was chitters and laughter and a little bit of heckling he suspected was aimed at Christopher, the guy who was eating at his desk. _Idiot._

Keith made his way to his desk but froze as he witnessed his own reflection in the mirror he kept in case of sudden visits from important people. He never wanted to go through meeting the president when he was in the worst of his stupor regarding Blue Lion. Never again. This was even worse than that time. His hair, flying in every direction and standing like he’d been electrocuted. Face, flushed and glistening with sweat. His white button up shirt was off center and unbuttoned at the top. His tie still dangling from his fingers. And his suit jacket was askew. And _dear god,_ he had sweat stains.

_Pidge is dead._

He flipped around just in time to watch Pidge dart out the door and down the stairs. Despite his better judgement, Keith followed, skipping the stairs and just launching over the railing screaming, “Pidge! Get back here you little demon!” Pidge responded by darting through the people on the ground floor of the main office, who were all stepping out of his way as he barreled after her.

She darted airily around a corner, while Keith skidded and ran into the wall, before taking off after her, still yelling. Keith was never going to live this down in the office. _Never._ Pidge took cover behind Shiro, right as he was entering the main office, and Keith was going too fast to stop. Luckily, his older brother and a godsend, simply took Keith’s weight like a linebacker before spinning with the momentum and sending him stumbling a few feet back where he came from.

Still better than face planting the wall.

He whirled on Shiro, ready to launch into a spiel about Pidge and how she gets on his nerves and deserves to die, but stopped with a huff at Shiro’s serious face, yanking his shirt down from where it scrunched up out of his belt. He figured he was about to be lectured, but the words that left his brother’s mouth simply ran his blood cold.

Shiro had leaned in, so that only Keith could hear and whispered in his ear, Pidge already disappearing around Keith, back to his office probably. Or maybe the lab.

And the _words._

They filled Keith with dread and remorse.

“Blue Lion has struck again, and Keith.” Shiro said, pausing enough for a little confusion to filter into Keith’s thoughts. Used to, Blue Lion only struck somewhere maybe once every three or four weeks. Now, this is the third target in as many weeks. One of which was just to send a message. He snapped out of his thoughts when the _real_ blood cooling words left Shiro’s lips with a whisper of sorrow.

“This time there were casualties.” Shiro said, and suddenly his own appearance was the least of Keith’s worries.


	10. Channel Surfing- Blue (Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance stumbles upon Keith on the news.

Blue licked the hot sauce off the underside of his right hand while channel surfing on the flatscreen. He’s in a nice little hotel by the coast, the sound of waves crashing soothing him even as he ate extremely spicy italian cuisine. His mouth felt like it melting, but he never really minded the heat. He downed a cup of water to lessen the heat a bit before he stopped on the news.

Normally the news never interested him, but the screen showed the President at the podium of a press conference, which wasn’t interesting either. What was interesting was a certain mulleted FBI agent standing behind him grimly, which was actually not as common as one might believe. Blue raised an eyebrow and turned the volume up as he went to the kitchen for more hot sauce and water. 

There was a pause in the President’s droning voice, in which he was bombarded with questions. Blue rolled his eyes and tilted his head back to down some more water. A question was thrown out louder than the rest, and Blue choked on the water in his throat.

_“What do you have to say about the Blue Lion murders Mr. President!”_

Blue bent forward in a completely accidental spit take, coughing to clear his lungs from the intruding water. His chest heaved and stung as he fought for control of himself again, already stumbling back to the tv. Glass shattered behind him, probably the glass falling off the counter. Blue coughed out the last of the water in his lungs as he rewound the news channel, it having already shifted to Kogane at the podium.

“What do you have to say about the Blue Lion murders Mr. President!” The reporter called out again. The president raised a single hand over the dozens of microphones in his face and like a crowd of obedient animals, the press silenced. 

“I was just about to get to that, thank you. I feel I should rather leave it up to the lead investigator to answer that question. Keith Kogane- Shirogane everyone.” There was a few smattering of polite clapping, but it was all drowned out by the slew of questions screamed in his face. Kogane looks a bit annoyed, and maybe awkward too. He raises his hand like the president did, but the crowd just kept screaming at him. Blue watched vaguely amused as Kogane got frustrated, then let out a long shrill whistle into the microphones, making everyone cringe and shut up.

Kogane cleared his throat after a moment, accompanied by the tug of a hand at his tie. Blue smirked, it was the most obvious tell Kogane hasfor being nervous. His smirk was stunted of course, because he was still reeling from his name and ‘murders’ in the same sentence.

“As this is still an open case, I cannot disclose too much information, but I will try to answer what I may. Please no screaming.” Kogane said, calmly despite being nervous, and he even seemed almost bored with that tone of voice. The press stayed silent a moment before Kogane thinned his lips and a reporter stood up hastily to avoid a Kogane outburst. She was blonde, tall, with legs for miles and dressed smartly.

“Agent Kogane-Shirogane,” Kogane cut her off abruptly to correct his name and the woman continued. “Forgive me, Agent Kogane. What can you tell us about the victims of the latest Blue Lion target?”

Keith pursed his lips and tilted his head a moment before answering, probably considering his words. “There were four in total who were victimized by the Blue Lion. Two have passed on, another is in critical care and the last escaped with minor cuts and bruises. And no, I cannot disclose the names of these victims as it stands. Next question.”

One by one, reporters stood up and politely asked their questions, as if intimidated by the big human kitten named Kogane.

“Is this another copy cat, or is this the real deal?” One of them asked. To which Kogane answered, “My team has reason to believe that this is the real Blue Lion, yes.” Blue shook his head in disbelief as his good name was sullied piece by piece, question by question. Panic started to rise in his chest.

_Of course it’s a copycat Keith! He doesn’t hurt people! Stop lying through your teeth! He’s never laid a hand on anyone! Not even a cop! Tell them!_

“Has he ever been violent before this?” The same reporter asked, cutting off someone else. Kogane looked annoyed. “No, but it was only a matter of time. I’m just sorry this guy has yet to be captured.”

The rude reporter asked another question, cutting off his fellow reporters. Does this guy have it out for Kogane or something? Blue would have to look into this so called reporter. “So what makes you believe this guy isn’t just another copy cat seeking the infamy the name Blue Lion represents?” Kogane breathes loudly through his nose, so loud even the microphones pick it up.

“The method of operation is almost identical to previous Blue Lion cases. Next question, next reporter.” Kogane said, tacking the last part on when the same reporter opens his mouth but he sits down obediently.

“What do you plan to do to catch this guy?” Another reporter asks. Kogane sighs again, more visible than audible. “No comment.”

Kogane pauses a moment and speaks before another reporter can ask a question. “My team and I are working round the clock to bring the real Blue Lion to justice. So in case he is watching right now, I have a message for him.”

The reporters visibly shift closer in their seats as Kogane leans into the mic, and the camera does a close up on Kogane’s face. He looks serious, fierce, determined and a tad bit smug. Why smug?

“Blue Lion. The real Blue Lion. You know who I am. You know what I do and how good I am at doing it.” Kogane said almost menacingly, but it came off as more mocking. “And if that is true, then know this, I’m coming for you. You know where to find me if you want this game of ours to come to a peaceful close. Once and for all.” Kogane leaned away from the mic and pulled out one of Blue’s little origami lions. It’s an older model, probably back to the beginning of when he started using them as his signature. Blue looked closer at the screen, pausing it to get it a better look.

If he didn’t know any better, that was his first lion. The shape was crude; folded and refolded a hundred times, some of them not where they were supposed to be folded so creases were where they shouldn’t be. It’s also a simple fold, beginner in regards to what Blue does now. The color has long since faded, rubbed away by years of oily hands moving over it.

He pushed play, watching as Kogane casually walks away after threatening him on live television, screams of questions unanswered following him, even as the President stepped back up to the podium.

Blue froze as he turned those words over again in his head. _After threatening him._ Keith threatened him. On live television. In front of the good people, and more importantly, the bad. Cold fear washed through him, not because of Kogane or his words. More like _for_ Kogane. He just made himself Blue Lion’s number one enemy on tv, and while Blue himself doesn’t care, because he finds it kind of sweet the obsession Kogane has, that doesn’t go for the people who refer to him as 'Prince’ or 'The Prince’. Keith just painted a target on his head, and doesn’t realize how many arrows were aimed for the center circle.

This could be very bad.

To top it all off, Blue’s being framed for murder on two counts and attempted on two more. Anger rose in his chest as he realized someone killed in his name, _using_ his name. _No one_ kills in his name.

Not even Blue himself.


	11. Under Arrest- Blue(Lance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is finally caught.

Blue darted around a corner, keeping a hand on the hood of his outfit as he sprinted away. His breath was heavy and the adrenaline rush wasn’t as nice a feeling as it usually was. A curse left his mouth as he tripped over something, sending it ringing down the road and alleys. Shouts were closing in on him, Kogane leading the charge.

Blue turned into a dead end and cursed some more.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. One moment he’s slipping away from another heist, one he pulled to get Kogane’s attention. Simple really, but dramatic enough to warrant the spotlight.

Next thing he knows, Kogane is chasing him, and his prize, a painting only worth a hundred grand or so, was left behind, probably already picked up by Kogane’s people. Speaking of, they were closing in on him, and he was trapped like a rat in a cage.

Blue searched the alley quickly and found a fire escape towards the back. He had missed it initially because the metal was black and it was shrouded in shadow. Blue jumped as high as he could and felt a yank at his shoulders as he grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder. Usually it would slide down easily with his weight, but this one must be stuck or something.

A beam of light flashed, followed by more.

Blue sacrificed one hand to hold onto his hood again. He was wearing the same heist outfit he usually does, so at least his skin is covered. Just his luck if he gave them even more information to go on to discover his identity.

He heard the footsteps as Kogane and his guys turned into the alley, and he turned just enough to get a glimpse. Kogane was at the mouth of the alley, the streetlight behind him making him nothing but a silhouette. It was a very aesthic look for Kogane.

Blue turned back to the ladder he was still hanging from desperately and started tugging himself upwards with nothing but arm strength. It wasn’t exactly easy, legs were his power move, not arms. Not to say he had a weak upper body, just that the strength in his legs isn’t equal to the strength of his arms.

“Stop! FBI!” Kogane shouted.

Blue was at the top of the ladder when something rattled it, sending Blue down a rung, where a hand locked over his ankle. He didnt need to look to know who it was, but he did anyways. Stormy violet eyes locked with his own for a mere moment before Blue shook Kogane off, nearly making him fall to the concrete, and climbed up the last of the ladder before darting his way up the stairs.

His breath was shallow as he tried to control his breathing.

He hopped onto the rooftop of the building he just went up the fire escape of, and ran to the edge. Luckily the next building was only a short drop, and the two were directly beside each other so there was no room to fall to his death. Not like he would, he’s been running across rooftops since he first started as a criminal mastermind.

Two thuds signalled he was still being pursued, and he veered left when two agents made it on the rooftop of the building he was on. He climbed up the next building and paused behind an air vent thing.

Blue keeled over, struggling to breath. He was always good at activity and had great stamina but apparently Kogane was in even better shape. Blue whipped his head up as a chorus of shouts in Kogane’s voice closed in again.

He took a moment to fiddle around in his jacket to pull out his mask and bandana to cover his face. Usually he only used his bandana to touch things without leaving a print when he doesn’t have gloves. The knot was secured just in time for flashlight beams to flash over and back to him as he took off again.

It felt like days, but what must have been only hours passed as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, down to ground levels and back to the rooftops. Stealing bikes, cars, jumping on moving trains and buses, all to avoid Kogane. At that point the entire city was hunting him down, so every where he turned, every cop and crossing guard and half baked security guard, they were all looking for him.

There was a constant supply of conversations involving one of the greatest chases to exist in recent years. And worse yet, he had nothing that would help him. No money, because he doesn’t carry that stuff on heists. No change of clothes because his stash was half way across town, and his other ones were all in heavy cop trafficked areas. Not even a painting to show for all of these obstacles.

Somewhere along the way his thoughts became frazzled, and the mental map of the city blurred. He couldn’t tell you how it happened, but he ended up at FBI HQ. Lady luck, why must you abandon your faithful pupils?

Blue booked it into the nearest alley to go back to the rooftops when Kogane caught up to him. It was the familiar click of a gun without its safety that made him freeze, not willing to make Kogane shoot him. Even if he didn’t die, they would still have his blood as evidence.

“Stop! Blue Lion, don’t move!” Kogane screamed, and Blue twisted to see him standing with his gun raised. Blue frowned, biting his lip hard enough to break skin, before the most brilliant, idiotic realization and idea hit him. One that involved him getting chained up like a rabid dog.

Blue smirked, and slowly raised his hands.

Kogane was panting as hard as Blue was right then, but the red flush on his cheeks just made him look like he was fresh out of a heavy sex session. He tensed visibly as Blue moved, and he chuckled at the most stupidest thing he was about to do.

God, Nyma was gonna murder him.

Blue slowly pushed his hood off of his face, and slipped his mask and bandana off as well, revealing him to the world. Or Kogane at least, since no one else was around. Just the two of them. Kogane reared back in shock, almost lowering his weapon from the force of it before drawing back up.

Blue slowly fell to his knees, one at a time, even before Kogane shouted ‘get on your knees!’. He kept his hands raised, and used his core strength not to fall as he lowered his body to the ground. He heard the almost familiar light stomps of Kogane’s boots as he neared cautiously.

It was when the first handcuff was secured that Blue said the first words out loud to Kogane, and almost wanted to smack himself in the face.

“Usually we don’t bring out the handcuffs until after the second date Kogane.” Blue said.

He totally deserved the extra tightness to the second cuff. At least he got the privilege to hear that broken sound vaguely reminiscent of a protest. Definitely a kittenish sound if you asked him.

“Blue Lion, you are under arrest for grand theft, forgery, resisting arrest and about another three dozen charges.” Kogane said, very commandingly.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you do or say can and will be used against you in the court of law…”


	12. Strip Chess- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith interrogates Blue Lion (a.k.a. Lance).

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration making his head pound.

He has been trying to break Blue Lion for hours now, and every response was nothing but a bad pick up line. His neck hurt, and he desperately wanted to get some sleep. The press has been up his ass since the arrest three days ago, but he had orders not to say a word. Why, one might ask? Keith was clueless as to the answer, but orders were orders.

_He should have never arrested Blue Lion._

It was like pulling teeth. Or bashing his face in with a hammer. Or both, but worse. As if he was talking to a brick wall. One that flirts with people who run face first into them. And he was so difficult to pin down in Keith’s mind. 

They teach people when going into the police academy how to do a character assessment. If you’re a good cop, and you’re good at your job, an officer should be able to tell at a glance what makes a person tick. Originally, Keith failed this part of training. Back then, he was fresh out of college, still a kid in every way but the law, and his emotions drove his every move.

Well, more like anger drove him anyways.

It was actually Shiro who showed him the tricks to emotional management and character assessment. Made it fun too. Shiro sat Keith down in front of an interactive training program the military and police use. It puts you in a situation, and you had to decide the right time to draw your weapon and shoot. The first time they played ranked, Shiro scored 100 and Keith none. But Keith was also extremely competitive, and so he played the game a lot more, and eventually he just naturally picked it all up.

Workouts for the mind, as Shiro said.

Looking at Blue Lion now, Keith felt justified in calling the man a brick wall. He had tan skin, and blue, storm like eyes, dark and changing. There were a few scars marring his hands, tiny white lines. He was also short haired, which explained why hair was practically _impossible_ to find at crime scenes. High cheekbones, but not dramatically pronounced, and a lazy half smile that was forever plastered on his face.

He was also consistently moving in someway.

Fidgeting with his hands, bouncing his legs, tilting his head. Like he had too much energy and not enough action. Also, maybe it was a trick of the eyes, but Blue Lion was shiny? Like, his skin was just… _Shiny._

It was about three minutes into the silence where they stared each other and nothing else that Blue Lion’s smile dropped. He threw his head back dramatically with an open mouthed groan. “Okay, I’m officially tired of playing the game.” Blue said.

‘The game’ was a reference to his speech when he called Blue Lion out for a murder he didn’t commit. Because _of course_ the man in front of him didn’t commit murder. Even the press knew better than that, despite not really being let in on the ploy. Allura’s idea, not Keith’s. 

_Damn politicians._

“Then tell me your name. Your real name.” Keith said. It was like going through the stages of grief trying to get information out of this guy. He denied the hundreds of pick up lines, despite some of them being pretty good. Almost made Keith smile, had it not been for stage two of grief. He had completely blown a gasket, and started yelling and slamming down on the table much like Pidge did what seems like forever ago. 

Now he was at stage three, bargaining. 

“Nah, how about a new game Kogane.” Blue said. He folded his hands underneath his chin with a smile that rivaled the cheshire cat’s. Those blue, _blue_ eyes sparked with a dark mischief, one that had Keith just a little bit more on edge than he already was. 

“How about chess? I know you keep it in a drawer in your office for your weekly meetings with Agent Reece Nicholson.” Blue continued after a moment without response, causing one of Keith’s shoulders to jerk back as if going to draw his gun. He didn’t like guns, he was much more proficient in bladed weapons, oddly enough. When he was younger, Keith took a kendo class, and absolutely excelled at it. Swords were just a more skill required weapon. Not to say he was all that bad with guns, he just prefers his swords and knives.

Keith scowled as he tensed and untensed his shoulders to release some of the tightness. “How do you know about that?” He demanded, slightly intimidated at the fact that Blue Lion knew about it. Reece was is old mentor and boss, and they get together every week, have a drink in Keith’s office, play chess and talk about things. Sometime keith asks for off the record advice on a case. Sometimes Reece tells him war stories from when he was overseas. Others it would be about family, friends, and even just a sunday night football game. 

The meetings were private, sacred. 

Out of literally anyone knowing about those meetings, why was it Blue Lion? Not Shiro, or Allura who seemed to know everything and say nothing. Not even Pidge the hacking genius. Did Lance flip Reece to his side? No, impossible, Reece was as hard headed as they get. No way would he sell out. So how?

“So many question Kogane. Not even one game?” Blue Lion asked with a pout, a literal pout, breaking Keith out of his circling thoughts. They met eyes, and another cheshire grin spread across Blue Lion’s face. Keith was wary about whatever plan was unfolding in the criminal’s head. 

“Why would I do that?” Keith asked, genuinely curious. Blue Lion shrugged, and Keith’s eyebrows rose expectantly. Blue Lion folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back. 

“Chess with a twist then?” Blue Lion said, his words lilting in a sort of question.

Keith felt his face deadpan before he could stop it, and his ears turn red. He’s just glad his hair was down today, most of the time he wore it in a ponytail. “I’m not playing strip chess with the likes of you.” Blue Lion spluttered in shock, the first true reaction Keith had elicited out of him. Then his head was thrown back in a burst of genuine laughter, one hand slapping across his eyes, and the other clutching his stomach for dear life. 

He regretted everything.

He was on the verge of shrinking into himself or storming out or something when the laughter finally cut off with a few chuckles. Blue Lion leaned forward again, one arm moving backwards to plant a hand on his chair’s armrest, the other planting on the table, and the chains that were practically unnoticeable until they made noise clanked. The hand on the table pointed at him.

“Not what I was going for, but thanks for that,” Blue Lion paused to rake his eyes over Keith’s body, practically leering at this point. Keith was ashamed at the way his heart rate jumped a little. “Wonderful image.” Blue Lion finished, and they both leaned away from each other. Keith hadn’t even realized he had leaned forward a little.

“If you win a game, I’ll answer one question as honestly as I can without signing myself into prison with a happy face sticker. I win, you answer one of _my_ questions. We got a deal Kogane?” Blue Lion said, holding his hand out for a handshake. Keith stared bewildered at it for a moment, thoughts racing. 

_Who the hell thought it was a good idea to make Keith the interrogator?_

_Oh right, Keith was._

Now, on a normal case, Keith would shake his head with a snort of a laugh and then say no as plainly as he could. But like he said before, the stages of grief. He really hoped Bargaining was his golden ticket. And he hoped depression and acceptance wouldn’t bite him in the ass for signing a deal with the devil. Keith sighed miserably.

“Deal.”


	13. Algorithms- Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge reflects and Hunk worries.

“Should we be concerned?” Hunk asked.

Pidge looked away from the two boys in the interrogation room. Hunk was still watching Keith and Blue Lion play chess, eyes blown wide but eyebrows drawn in tight together. He was wringing his hands together and chewing worriedly on his lip. Obviously Hunk was feeling anxious.

Pidge looked back at Keith and Blue Lion just as another game was being set up. From the smirk Blue Lion was wearing, it was obvious who had won that last bout. The two of them had been at it for hours, with hardly a break in between games now. Keith was obviously just keeping score for how many questions each of them got. 

Shiro’s face when Keith raced back to his office with the simple explanation of what was going on between him and the Blue Lion, well Pidge is just glad she snapped a picture of it. The first game went to the criminal, and the game after that, and another game after that before Keith got his first victory. Pidge had long since turned off the microphones, choosing to listen to literally _anything else_ than Keith’s silence and Blue Lion’s flirty lines. 

It had become clear after the hour turned that they wouldn’t be done with it at all for a while. 

It was actually intriguing just how into the game the two of them got. Like, it wasn’t even a video game. How could they stare at a chess board for hours on end? Around hour two, Shiro and Allura, and subsequently Coran who had taken a nap in Keith’s office (to which no one has told Keith about), all ditched the FBI/ Criminal Chess tournament. Pidge followed suit about hour three and a half, choosing to go check out the science labs uptown for a while. 

They were going on about hour five now.

Hunk, the loyal guy he is, had nominated himself as Keith’s protector until the matters with Blue Lion were over. Apparently the two of them had been friends in college, despite not being anywhere near the same course majors. They lost touch or something, because they hardly recognized each other until Keith learned Hunk’s real name. Something exotic starting with a T, or something like that. 

She could never remember.

Pidge cocked her head to the side in consideration to Hunk's question. It didn't seem like Keith was in any real danger other than wounded pride, because Blue Lion was actually pretty good at chess. And so was Keith, so they were pretty decently matched. 

A ding on her laptop shook her out of her thoughts. She's been running an algorithm on Blue by facial recognition, which wasn't actually a government made technology. It was a Pidge made technology. Pidge technology is how they caught Blue Lion so quickly in the first place.

She had ran an algorithm that is based on probability. She typed in every victimized establishment or home that a lion origami was found, including the ones found to be copycats. The copycat victims were run in a different color, because the system was color coded, because what is she, _an animal?_

Once that information was entered and sorted into the three categories- one for Blue Lion, one for copycats, and one where it could have been either of the previous two options- it gave a list of possible targets around the world that Blue Lion might go after next. 

Of course, the results were in the thousands around the world.

To fix that she had processed the things Blue Lion stole and forged and it narrowed the choices down to a couple dozen. To narrow that down, she added a radius, since he seemed particularly active in the surrounding cities here recently. Then the choices were three. Shiro, Allura, and Coran sat on target one. Pidge and Hunk on target two. And Keith took target three with a team he's used before on Blue Lion activity. It was just a luck of the draw, and out waiting the Blue Lion. 

Keith won that draw.

They had only sat on the three targets for two days. Which were the most boring two days of her life, _thank you very much._ But about mid- day on day three, a call went out over the comms. Keith calling in the Blue Lion siting and chasing after him. Next thing she knew, the entire city police system was on the hunt.

The rest is history. 

Looking at how Blue Lion has reacted while being held arrested, Pidge doubted he was posing any threat of harm. In fact, its _almost_ as if he chose to come in willingly. Doubtful of course, because Blue Lion isn't that stupid. But it makes a person wonder, after watching his behaviour towards Keith and towards anyone else.

Pidge tapped her fingers against her laptop, still closed and in the messenger bag. She could wait a moment or two more before changing the pace on this interrogation turnedd chess tourney. But perhaps she should answer Hunk. She looked over at him again to see him bouncing on his toes anxiously and twisting his hands. 

Man, he really _was_ worried. 

"I don't think we need to worry too much." The _yet_ on the tip of her tongue goes unspoken.


	14. Propostions- Pidge/Allura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge and Allura chapter. It's split in half.

Pidge was dreaming, something about flowers and stars and planets, when she was shocked awake by a loud crash in front of her. The sound jolted her out of her snoring and drooling, and straight out of her chair as well. She landed on her shoulders, completely flipping over the back of her chair and onto the floor. Her glasses were crooked across her face as she blinked owlishly up at a face smothered in bright lights.

She was positive those lights were off when she dozed off.

Pidge blinked, and stifled a yawn as the face came into clarity, not bothering to stifle her glare. It was Keith, standing above her looking confused. Maybe Blue Lion was right when he called Keith feline-like. Both animal and Keith do that head tilt thing at least. Like he’s doing right now.

They stayed blinking at each other a moment.

“Why are you on the floor?” Keith asked, sounding genuinely confused and baffled. His eyebrows creased down, and he leaned more over the table he was leaning on. They were in the conference room or whatever it’s called, where Pidge had tried to get some well deserved rest while another program she had for finding Matt calculated.

“It looked lonely, so I hugged it with my face, why do you think I’m on the floor asshole!” Pidge yelled in annoyance as she scrambled to free he legs from the chair to stand. Keith just stood and watched, eyebrows creased even harder than before.

She ignored Keith’s responding, confused mutter, “But you didn’t land on your face.”

When she finally stood with a huff as she adjusted her sweatshirt, she discovered the subject of the crash that woke her up. A box, practically half her size in height and twice her weight had been dropped on to the creaking metal. Pidge would bet her life that there was a dent now.

She waved a hand generally at the box in confusion. “What’s all of this?” She asked. Keith hadn’t even said a word before she began peeking around inside it. Filled to the brim were papers and files, some empty, some a little filled in.

“I got a name for the Blue Lion!” Keith exclaimed in a hushed voice. She glanced over briefly at the tone, before taking a double take to stare at Keith.

The man was practically bouncing in joy, his eyes feverish in his obsession. His hair looked wild, long past the sleekish low ponytail at his neck and gathered rushedly on the top of the back of his head. Lots of long black locks were loose and sticking up where they please, but his face was unobscured. Something his low ponytail can’t do.

Pidge raised an eyebrow, and Keith visibly calmed himself with a clearing of his throat.

Keith continued after his voice was back to normal. “He gave me the name Lance McClain, as well as a few answers to other questions. He wouldn’t answer anything that was important though, which sucks.” Pidge rolled her eyes skyward, before pinning Keith with a deadpan look.

“Ever think it was just an alias?” She said. Ber words seemed to offend Keith.

“Well, duh. That’s what the box is for. I pulled up every name that has Lance or McClain, and printed a file for each of them. I want you to find any connection between any of these people that they might hold with Blue Lion.” Keith explained in a rush, almost tripping over his words he was talking so fast. Pidge looked incredulously at the box of files. There had to be at the very minimum of a thousand.

“You want me to do all of this? There’s like a thousand!” Pidge exclaimed, picking up the top file and thumbing through it distractedly as she was already coming up with ways to go around having to do so much work.

This is not what she had planned when joining Allura’s little crusade.

After about a month of setting connections with people before they got started, Shiro had asked if they could all help his brother out with a case. After Allura looked him up with super secret ‘Big Brother’ technology called Google, and maybe a few other sites, she had exclaimed that Keith would be her next recruit. Pidge must have been the only one to see that mischievous glint in her eyes.

Whatever Allura had been planning must be coming to fruition.

“That’s actually only box one, and there’s three. Well, two and a half anyways.” Keith said, twiddling his thumbs like a nervous school boy. He was swaying on his heels as he tried to look casual, as if dropping a bomb on her like this wouldn’t and shouldn’t piss her off. He’s dreaming if he thinks that.

“You want me to go through over a thousand people across the world all alone?” Pidge asked, though the question came off as more of a statement. Guess she’ll have to reprogram the Matt Holt and Sam Holt code.

“Preferably within the week, and I can assign any amount of agents good with technology to help you if you want.” Keith said, trailing off at the scandalized look that was probably gracing Pidge’s face. He wanted to give other people access to her code to find connections between Blue Lion, or Lance if you will, and these people he shares an alias with?

No chance in hell.

“I’ll be fine, I work best under pressure anyways.” Pidge said shaking her head. She sighs and grabs her laptop, entering her 39 character passcode to come face to face with a SEARCH FAILED. REFINE SEARCH. Which was her computer's way of telling her Matt wasn’t findable with such few present data.

Pidge sighed again, hesitating before pulling up her coding screen to alter her program. She had changed the code used for the location of Blue Lion’s targets to find Matt, and now she’s faced with a daunting task ahead of her. Daunting only in how long it would take her to finish full life stories on each person, which is what she assumes Keith wants. Every detail in these people’s lives that may connect to Blue Lion.

She glanced up at an empty room three hours later.

Time passes quickly when she gets into her work, but her ass ached from sitting in the awful office chair and she just decided to use Keith’s office as her Base of Operation. Except Keith was in a private meeting with three strangers wearing FBI jackets.

She decided to find somewhere quite so that she could do her work. Surely this giant building will have _some_ sort of quiet place for her. Worst comes to worst she goes back to that conference room with a bunch of blankets and pillows from her jeep.

Free WiFi was worth the trouble at least.

~~~

Allura slipped off her heels with a glance behind her.

She was positive someone would find out what she was up to eventually, namely Pidge or Keith, but the reward outweighs the risk. It was quiet in the FBI headquarters, the day long since passed as she trudged barefoot down the halls. Perhaps she should feel guilty for going behind her team’s backs like this, but she wasn’t guilty.

If anything she was smug.

She peeked around a corner, moving quickly as she saw no people. Sure the cameras would probably see her, but that’s whatever. Allura slowed as she came upon the room she was looking for, slipping her heels back on and fixing her pale rose blouse.

Presentability and all that.

With a deep breath she started down the last of the hallway, the lights flicking on as she passed. Her heels made satisfying clicks on the floor that echoed in the dim halls. It was that late and early hour, where the building was quietest. Most everyone was gone for the night, and people wouldn’t start showing up for a while yet for the new day.

Made her mission that much easier.

As Allura stood in front of the door she was looking for, she allowed herself a moment to relax. Her political face settled over her like a mask, polite but neutral and vaguely interested all at the same time. She inserted the key card she swiped from Keith when he wasn’t looking, then entered the twelve digit pin code and placed her palm on the scanner for recognition.

Pidge had updated the security for this particular door immediately since setting foot in the building. Only Allura and her team had full access now, though Keith held the only keycard, up until Allura swiped it. Which was necessary of course.

The access light flipped to green and the door opened with a loud release of locking mechanisms, causing a slight cringe to grace her face before it settled in time for the door to swing open. In front of her was a dimly lit room, completely metal. There were no windows, and no open vents or movable furniture.

It was a prison cell.

A high tech prison cell.

The bed was welded to the floor, with no mattress, and a single pillow and blanket. The sink was a slab of metal that looked as if it extended from the wall. And a see through wall of reinforced glass separating the room in half. Behind the wall sat a lone figure, awake and leaning against the wall as casually as if he wasn’t held prisoner.

Blue Lion, A.K.A Lance McClain.

His hair had grown from the short brown cut to a slightly longer cut, and his blue eyes were sharp and mischievous as ever. His arms were crossed, one foot flat on the wall as he leaned. Despite the orange jumpsuit he was changed into, this guy, this Lance McClain looked as harmless as a mouse.

Shocking almost.

When brought in, the man before her wore a professionally crafted black outfit, that was practically made for a stereotypical James Bond. Maybe that was where Lance got the impression to make it, despite James Bond only ever wearing tailored suits. As far as she knows anyways, she never watched the movies.

In that black outfit, Lance was intimidating. In this jumpsuit, not so much.

Allura stepped into,the room a little further, allowing the door to swing closed. Her keycard was all that was needed to leave of her own volition, but that was later. As she stepped forward, so did Lance, launching off the wall to stand a foot from the glass separating them. There were hundreds of small drilled holes in the glass to allow for proper conversation.

“Well hello, Miss Harlow. A vision if ever I saw one.” Lance began. His voice was smooth, flirtatious, matching the curled smoulder of his lips. “What brings such ethereal beauty like you to my humble abode?” The question was asked with a flourish of his hand, as if inviting her to tea at his metal sink slab. Allura was not impressed.

“I’ve heard you are going by the alias of Lance McClain.” She fired back, her question less a question than it was a statement. Lance nodded dutifully, still smouldering and flirting.

“The one in millions. But please, call me Lance.” He said sticking his hand out as if he could actually shake her hand behind the glass. She raised an eyebrow, and Lance shrugged, slipping said hand onto his hip. He was still leaning against the glass on his forearm.

They were equal height when she wore her heels.

Allura waited for Lance to drop his flirtatious smirk and when he did he stepped back to lean casually against the wall. As if she had never walked in in the first place. “What can I help you with Miss Harlow?” He asked. She wasn’t sure if she liked the purr he threw up around the 'r’ in her last name.

Allura weighed her decision one last time before all bets were off. Should she have asked the team first? Probably. Will she back down now? Never. Besides, it only would be possible if Keith went along with it in the end anyhow. Oh well, might as well get it over with.

“I have a proposition to make.” Allura said, folding her hands in front of her.


	15. House Calls- Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is called to Allura's house to break up a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, i messed up and posted this chapter on Five Star Secrets first, but I wish to give a special thank you to the person who commented, like as soon as it was up. 
> 
> Emonnie, thank you. I posted that on my phone in a rush and wasn't paying attention. Eternal gratitude, thanks. XOXO. I practically ran to my computer to correct my mistake. Nearly throttled the thing when it wouldn't load fast enough. Phew, crisis averted amiright?

Shiro opened the door to Allura's house cautiously.

Pidge had texted him a half hour ago, merely saying '911 Allura's house. Now.' He wasn't sure what he expected to walk into but Pidge met him at the foyer. She was standing in front of the stairs, laptop in hand. The moment Shiro closed the door behind him, he heard shouting. 

He winced as he recognized Keith's voice. 

"What's going on?" Shiro asked, already taking a step into the direction of the voices. Pidge barely glanced up from her screen, which reflected off her glasses. She shrugged helplessly.

"They've been going at it for, like, twenty minutes now. Keith isn't happy. You should probably stop him from killing her." She stopped, then scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "If he could even get close enough." 

Shiro flinched when there was a crash, taking a step forward. "Why is he mad? What did Allura do?" He asked, glancing at Pidge but putting his eyes back on the archway that would lead to where Keith and Allura were arguing. He wanted to just bust in and stop it, but his better self needed to know what was going on first. 

He's been on the receiving end of Keith's wrath. 

Best to know what was happening first.

"Allura did something involving Lance, and Keith's pissed. Hunk is trying to keep up damage control, but I just decided that was far too much drama for my mental health." She said. She shut her laptop with a click and pushed up her glasses as she tucked the laptop into her messanger bag. 

Shiro paused, actually looking at her for a moment and ignoring the shouting that picked up volume for a moment before lowering. "Who's Lance?" Shiro asked, genuinely confused. 

_Did something happen while he was out of town?_

Pidge looked at him like he was naive, and coming from someone a decade younger than him, it made his cheeks burn in embarrassment. "Lance McClain." Shiro just blinked at her stupidly, his feet turning to move again when Allura's voice picked up in a shout. 

Pidge sighed, pushing up her glasses again. 

"Blue Lion. Or rather his alias." Pidge said slowly, as if talking to a child, and Shiro nodded in understanding. Guess stuff really _did_ happen while he was gone. 

Another crash.

"You should probably go in there now." Pidge said, already moving out of the room to lead him to the commotion.

Shiro dutifully followed on her heels. They bypassed the very pink and rose decorated living room and hooked a right into the next. The moment the doors opened under Pidge's hand, the shouting became much more clear.

"-o right Allura! He is not your play thing and I will not tolerate you going behind my back in my own place of work!" Shiro stepped into what looked like an office. The room was about the same size as Keith's but windowless since it was dead center in the house. Allura stood behind a desk, her hands planted on the surface of papers and folders as she leaned forward. 

Her brow was lowered, and her lips, painted a dark red, were turned down at the corners. Her hair was pinned behind her in a loose but elegant braid, and her dark red dress was rumpled. Behind her stood Coran with a hand on her shoulder. 

Keith stood with his back to Shiro. He was wearing a suit, like usual, but the shirt was untucked and the top two buttons undone. His hair was wild, like he hand been yanking at it. Between them stood Hunk.

He was dressed casually, and looked the least frazzled in dress, but the most frazzled in his expression. One hand was on Keith's shoulder as he stood perpendicular to the two arguers. 

Allura straightened her posture at Shiro's entrance, straightening her dress in humph. She pointed at Keith like a child and addressed Shiro, making Keith whirl around with a glare to kill.

"Tell him he's overreacting and he has no right to be so put out about this!" Allura shouted, her accent slipping in on the words 'put out about'. Almost like a slurring, but more refined. Sort of British, but not.

Shiro raised a placating gesture with his hands just as Keith returned fire. "Tell her not to meddle in things that she has no right to do so!" Keith yelled. He turned half way back to facing Allura with that same deadly glare. Oh if looks could kill.

"Alright, both of you, calm down. Hunk, explain to me as plainly as possible what the hell is going on." Shiro said, slipping his old commanding tone he used to use in the military into his words. Keith and Allura both quieted with a glare at each other and Hunk visibly relaxed. 

"Allura asked Lance if he would like to work as a part of this team, and went behind Keith's back to do so. Keith is pissed because she didn't consult him first." Hunk said quickly in a single breath, keeping one hand on Keith's shoulder while using the other one to gesture at the two in question. 

Shiro nodded, a weariness making his metal hand heavy. He rubbed his flesh hand down his face as he thought about what he should do. Both of them were hotheads, siding with one would just escalate the problem. It sucks being a metaphorical Switzerland.

"Alright. Listen." He started. "Keith don't get so worked up, let's just talk this out civilly." Allura smirked in triumph, already opening her mouth to deliver an 'I told you so'. Shiro cut her off with a pointed look. "And Allura, you can't go behind someone's back just to fulfill your own desires. Next time, talk to us first." At that she deflated into childlike guilt. Coran patted her shoulder silently in support. He didn't look like he would butt in any time soon.

"Now, tell me exactly what it was you asked of Blue Li-er, uh, Lance I suppose now." Shiro demanded, tripping over his words slightly. 

Allura sighed and collapsed backwards into her chair, a hand on her forehead. Following her example, everyone else took their seats as well, not including Coran, who stayed in his place behind Allura, his hand falling to her chair instead. Pidge and Hunk took the couch to the right of the door, while he and Keith took the chairs. Shiro made sure to sit in the chair closest to the opening for behind the desk, which pressed against the wall on the other side. 

When he took a seat, Shiro noticed a stack of papers and a couple nicknacks and other items strewn across the floor. With he frown he looked at Keith, who shrugged with arms crossed. Not even an ounce of guilt on his face. Upon Shiro turning back to face forward, Hunk had already gathered the mess and was placing them strategically back onto the desk. 

Allura spared Hunk a grateful glance before facing Shiro, actively avoiding Keith's burning glare. 

"I gave him a proposition. Told him, that if he worked alongside us in our endeavor to stop Zarkon, he would be granted a smaller sentence so long as he pleads guilty to at least two major charges. Said time would be spent as a Criminal Informant for as much as he is useful." She said. Her hands started fidgiting with her papers, straightening out the mess Keith caused.

She barely looked up as she spoke.

"He originally declined, but when I told him I had pull with the President he seemed to reconsider." Keith scoffed beside him, it silenced with a glare from Shiro. "Then he countered that if he took my offer, he would only work with Agent Kogane as his handler." Allura finished. Her tone was strictly professional this entire time. She thumbed through the papers and folders she had stacked up, looking for something. 

She handed to Shiro what she found, a folder that opened to Lance's contract. 

"When I brought this up to Keith, in my own living room as well, he blew up on me." Allura said, losing her professionality to be replaced with spite.

Keith butt in at this point, his voice deadly calm.

"Then she stormed into her office like a child. She ambushed me with Hunk and Pidge, asking me here as a friend before dropping this bomb." Keith leaned forward. "She had no right to speak to MY collar, but she did so anyways behind my back!" 

Shiro quickly pacified Allura with a raised hand before those wide eyes full of fury transferred to insults and yelling. Again. He put his other hand on Keith's chest and forced him back into the chair, causing it to wobble a little before setting back on the ground. 

"Enough." Shiro said. They calmed down immediately. 

"Now that I'm in the loop, we are going to talk this over, and come to a decision. Come to multiple decisions actually. Keith never agreed to join the team yet, so that will be the first to be discussed." Shiro said as clearly and precisely as possible. "Understood?"

He was answered with a chorus of 'understood' right back, two voices clear, two grumbled. Shiro slowly let his hand come off of Keith's chest, making sure he wasn't going to attack or do anything else stupid. 

"Now let's begin." He said, crossing his arms, shifting a little to make the prosthetic not pull so much.

This would be a long night.


	16. Criminal Informant- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It begins.

Keith couldn’t help the grumbling that escaped his throat.

He had been coerced into joining his brother and Allura in their crusade by his boss. His _boss._ Keith had practically been ordered by the man who trained him in everything he knew, to shut up and go with his brother. No explanation on why. Just to do it, and that he would be assigned Lance McClain as a criminal informant.

Allura must’ve done something.

Whatever. It is what it is now.

He checks his watch, tapping his foot in impatience. The trial was over and Lance had been convicted to ten years each, totaling twenty years, with parole after ten if he behaves. Usually trials would take a lot longer to get started, and to get convicted, but this case was as high profile as they come. Along with the two charges Lance plead guilty to, he was convicted for four more minor ones, totaling his years off to twenty seven. 

Now he was waiting on Lance to hurry up and get his ass in gear. 

Keith was waiting outside the prison Lance had been transferred to, and had spent three nights in. He was low key hoping Lance got shanked and killed while inside, but shit happens. Keith looked up from his phone, where he had been angrily texting Shiro about the bullshit of having to do all of this on orders. He wasn’t answering.

Keith slipped his phone into his inner jacket pocket as the guards finally, _finally_ released Lance. Who proceeded to stop and stretch as if it’s been years since he saw the light of day. Keith huffed out an impatient sigh as Lance finally looked at him, and gestured to his ankle, wanting to see the anklet. Lance rolled his blue, blue eyes and lifted up his jeans to show off a sleek black anklet with a tiny green light.

Keith felt very smug that he was the only one who held the key.

“Let’s go, we have places to be.” Keith said to Lance who shrugged and sauntered over, passing by Keith a little closer than necessary. Keith yelped when a hand landed on his ass in a sharp smack, his cheeks burning and a scowl curling as he whirled on Lance. Lance had already shut himself in Keith’s car, and his hand was reaching to blast music that was most certainly _not_ what Keith listens to. 

He huffed, pulling his suit jacket down before making his way to the driver’s side. First thing he did when getting in the car was shut off the radio blasting pop music too loud. He immediately set the car to drive and took off. The entire drive was spent with petty, childish fighting over the radio and Lance spouting pick up lines like his life depended on it. 

Lance would turn on his pop music, Keith would shut it off, Lance would say a line, and on and on the cycle goes.

Keith was about ready to yank the steering wheel just to end his misery when they finally arrived at their destination. The building was nondescript, a plain square building with white brick walls and a few windows on the second floor. Keith shut off his car and immediately patted his jacket for his wallet, which was missing. 

He straightened sharply and turned to look at Lance, who was already holding it open and thumbing through his cards and turning it upside down and everything, causing loose change to fall out. Keith snatched his wallet back and slammed his door shut to march to the building entrance, muffling Lance’s laughter until he followed out of the car. 

Keith placed his hand on the hand scanner and the locks unsealed. He then proceeded to wide it off with a sanitizer wipe that sat in a container right next to it. This was to get rid of lingering prints. He was opening the door right as Lance walked up, hands shoved into his pockets. 

“What is this place Kogane?” Lance asked, gaze darting everywhere. 

Keith turned to him with a scowl, which hasn’t actually left his face since that ‘talk’ in Allura’s house about a week ago. 

“Welcome to the Castle.” Keith said, his voice dry and lacking any sort of ambiance the name of the building might have had. Then he turned his back on Lance and marched inside, keeping a hand on the pocket holding his wallet and phone and other important things. It made his suit jacket heavy on one side, having it all concentrated in one place, but it made it easier to keep a hold of them with Lance around. 

Inside looked a lot better than the outside.

In the far right corner was a huge spread of technology and metal and wires and half finished projects that Pidge and Hunk have yet to finish. It was cordoned off by glass walls that could fog up and conceal whoever is inside when a button is pressed underneath the desk inside. A similar office, which Keith and Shiro uses, although Shiro rarely goes in there to do anything other than to bug Keith, was off to the far left, also sectioned off like Pidge and Hunk’s. The upstairs loft like area only had one room, which Allura used. 

He’s been in there once, but there were so many components to it it was astonishing it all fit. There was the large computer Allura uses to plan or whatever. The desk for papers and files and things. The sofa-bed. The security room. 

The best part was what the rest of the first floor was used as.

The entire floor was used for training. They were expecting to go up against some bad people, and they needed to be trained and ready for anything and everything. Apparently some of Zarkon’s men were special weapon-ists. Swordsmen, snipers, axe wielders. Things like that. Which meant Keith might get to actually use his kendo training for something in real life. 

In the center of the duct tape circle was Shiro and Allura engaging in good old fashioned unarmed combat. Sparring as Shiro calls it. Allura was totally whooping Shiro’s ass too, using her lithe frame to her advantage and moving around Shiro like a little snake. In comparison, Shiro looked like a bumbling giant. A _capable_ bumbling giant, but still. 

Lance’s footsteps stopped walking behind him and Keith glanced over his shoulder. 

Lance was staring wide eyed, his hands still in his pockets but his body practically limp where he stood. Keith quirked up an eyebrow, amused at Lance’s reaction. Blue eyes circled the room, glancing briefly and unimpressed at the sparring session, before landing on Keith. 

“Cool.” Lance breathed out.


	17. Caught Eavesdropping- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is bored and eavesdrops.

“So do you guys just hang out and do nothing all the time or what?” Lance asked.

It’s been a week since Kogane introduced him to ‘the Castle’ and all he’s done is lounge around watching everyone do their own thing. Hunk and Pidge were usually tinkering, and more often than not the Shirogane brothers were working out and sparring. Allura and Coran were always locked upstairs doing who knows what, since Lance was allowed no where near the stairs, let alone the actual office after the tour. 

At the moment he was hanging upside down on one of the workout benches, after he had thoroughly cleaned off the sweat of course. Kogane was practicing his judo sword tricks or whatever. Lance will admit, it wasn’t the worst of things to watch. A shirtless man, sweaty and out of breath, muscles rippling under his skin. 

Who wouldn’t be content drooling over such a sight?

Kogane stopped his bamboo sword tricks to push that mullet out of his face, slicking it back with his own sweat. He glanced over at Lance with a sharp glare and a scowl that seems ever present when in Lance’s vicinity. Hot, but an asshole. Figures. All the pretty ones are. Lance huffs quietly as Kogane looked away before actually responding for once. Usually his only responses would be a scowl, a grunt, a glare, or all three. 

“Why don’t stop being lazy and do something then? And for your information, Allura is figuring out our first target of Zarkon’s hoard.” Kogane snapped, before marching right past Lance to grab a bottle of water. Lance felt like he watch this man drink water all day, whoo boy. The red flush of the workout spread to a hot pink on Kogane’s ears when he glanced over briefly. 

Lance sighed as he looked away, before letting his body slip downwards off the bench, head first, before he flipped his legs over and stood up. He swayed briefly from the rush of blood to his head. Lance tugged his tee shirt down, already wishing for the millionth time that he had access to his accounts so he could buy some real clothes. They weren’t frozen of course, but digging into them would give Kogane even _more_ leverage over Lance. 

Not happening.

“Fine, teach me your little sword tricks then.” Lance said at last. He stifled a giggle when Kogane glared at him again. He really hated it when Lance called them ‘sword tricks’. Agent hothead turned away and ignored him to head to the showers tucked in the back of the building. 

_God,_ Lance was sick of these walls. They’ve been having him stay in the castle for the past week, and without a proper bed, his back was killing him. Kogane must really be into that whole ‘cruel and unusual punishment’ thing. And he had no beauty products, so his skin was oily, and starting to break out. Ugh, gross. 

He sighed before glancing around, finding no one paying any attention to him. The two beautiful nerds were hunched over Pidge’s computer, whispering frantickly between themselves. He casually swung around towards the stairs, taking one step at a time, very cautiously. After about two steps he realized his shoes were squeaking, since they were his usual heist shoes. Whatever, he can still do what he does best without all of his fancy tools. 

He slips his feet out of his shoes. 

The stairs are a metal, so they don’t quite creak like wooden stairs do, and Lance placed a foot on the bottom step and grinned maniacally when there was sound. He darted as quickly as he could up the stairs before slowing down at the door to the office. He pressed up against the wall, and crouched so no one on the first floor could see him all that easily, seeing as all that covered him was a solid metal floor and open metal bars for a railing. 

Lance closed one eye as he pressed against the door. 

The voices were muffled, but Lance could hear enough to get the gist. Shiro was in there, arguing with Allura over something he couldn’t hear, up until his _nom de guerre_ was mentioned. 

_“....need Lance’s help...brought him in for...?”_ Shiro had said, or at least most of it, it was hard to hear through such a thick door. He squeezed his eyes shut as he ehis ear to the gap of the door instead of against it. Allura must have responded when he had moved, because it was silent a moment. And it stayed that way until suddenly footsteps were coming towards the door. 

Unfortunately, his sock covered feet slip out from under him when he scrambles for freedom, knocking him into the banister. He’s standing up just as the door opens and both he and Shiro freeze. Lance straightens up and leans against the railing in the most uncasual-casual way. He crosses his feet and leans down so he leans on his forearm planted on the flat surface of the metal. 

He waves his other hand awkwardly and his voice cracks when he speaks. 

“Hey,” Lance drawls out, extending the word way more than necessary. “What’s up guys? How,” He stumbles over his words. “How’s your day going?” Shiro just stares at him with very dissapointed Dad look.


	18. Bombings- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is finally let in on mission details.

Lance smiled nervously as Shiro pushed him into a chair in the upstairs room.

Shiro rounded the desk table to stand beside Allura and Coran with his arms crossed. At least Coran looked amused, compared to the unimpressed looks he was getting from Shiro and Allura. Lance kept smiling like nothing was wrong anyways.

“You know,” Allura started, sounding emotionally exhausted for some reason. “For an internationally acclaimed King of Thieves, you weren’t very good at spying on us.” Lance wasn’t sure to be affronted at the insult on his spying skills, or pleased that people across the globe know his work. They got one thing wrong though.

“Prince.” Lance said. “Prince of Thieves actually.” Shiro and Allura shared a bewildered look with each other.

“Did you just reference Aladdin?” Shiro asked, sounding a cross between amused and tired. Lance tilted his head for a second.

“Yes.”

Allura uncrossed her arms to put one fist on the crease of her hips, dressed in a sleek pair of slacks, and used the other to pinch the bridge of her nose. She looked up as if she was looking at the sky, before reaching forward. Lance followed her hand as it reached towards the bare desktop.

He practically drooled when, with only a couple repeated taps on the surface, the black surface lit up like a Christmas tree. What once looked like a black marble square surrounded by wood, turned out to be a very large screen. The screen was blue like a computer desktop might be, with little icons of file folders and things. Allura pressed on a file icon towards the top of the screen, away from where Lance was seated. 

It opened into a load of pages that looked very _official._

“What’s all this?” Lance asked in confusion. The last tab to open was a picture of a man whose left was very much robotic. He kind of looked familiar.

“This is target one. He’s a part of Zarkon’s upper ranks, and we need to bring him in for questioning.” Allura said, rounding the desk to stand beside Lance, just as the last three of the group filed in. 

“Problem is, this was the only intel able to be extracted before we lost contact with our intelligence operative.” She finished. Lance hovered his hand over the screen before snapping back to look at Allura. 

“Wait, you weren’t kidding about going after Zarkon? I thought that was just Kogane hazing me.” 

Keith growled like an animal as he stepped up to the desk directly in front of him, freshly showered. Lance leaned back with a smirk and raised hands in surrender.

“Down kitty.”

Allura clamped a hand down on his shoulder roughly, making Lance cough and direct his attention back to the screen. She reached forward to tap at the screen, minimizing the picture and a lot of other open tabs. She kept that up until she reached the first one that popped up, a news article from a foreign country. An old one. Shiro pointed at it.

“This was the first article to be written about Zarkon’s attacks, the first time Zarkon claimed the attacks as his own.” Shiro said. Lance skimmed over the article, but he already knew what it said. He was there when the incident had happened, earning a nice little scar in his left calf. 

“Yeah I know it.” Lance said, disguising his bitter tone as best he could. “It was a village bombing in a small country, thirteen casualties, forty injured, and one still comatose to this day.” Lance said, then mistakenly muttered under his breath. “How could I forget?” 

No one seemed to hear it, and if they did, they didn’t comment on it. 

Shiro and Lance continued like this through next dozen articles just like it. Shiro seemed to just skip it once he confirmed that Lance knew what the article was about. They ranged in time, countries, and hysteria. Some called Zarkon’s army, or the ‘Galra’ as they call themselves, wannabe terrorists. Others called them the world’s next conqueror. Lance was partial to the latter.

“So what is the point of all these articles? I know about them already, there probably are few people in my line of work who don’t.” 

Shiro, Allura and keith shared looks at that. Coran, Hunk and Pidge had stepped to the other side of the room, where couches and a television set were. They were quietly playing video games. Luckies. 

“Why is that?” Keith asked. He was sitting on the edge of the chair arm in front of the desk, dragged from the wall a few minutes ago. Lance couldn’t be sure if Keith was joking or not, so he went with ‘not’ and leveled a very nonplussed look at him. 

“Uh, because Zarkon has his hand in every form of criminal activity imaginable? He has assassin’s for hire, cleaners, hackers, gangs in his back pocket. Thieves who steal the information and items he uses to terrorize the world population. Politicians, world leaders, scientists. He runs guns, drugs, bio-weapons. He’s got fences for everything as well.” Lance sighed.

“It’s practically impossible not having some sort of dealing with his men, or his men’s men. Why do you think I do it all myself? Allegedly.” He tacks on the end with a small smile. 

Allura leaned down and brought up that picture again. 

“Well, we need to find this one and bring him in. Most, if not all of these attacks, were ordered by this guy. Everyone who was brought in refer to him as ‘Sendak’. We take this guy down, we take down a large portion of Zarkon’s operation.”

Lance feels a chill run down his spine at the familiar name. He looks down and suddenly it dawns on him who this guy is. He’s shaking his head no before Allura can even finish her speal. She was persuasive, but no way was he going to cave on this. 

“No way, Jose. Can’t help you, me and this guy have way too much history.” Lance said, unintentionally divulging more than he wanted to. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, which actually looked very intimidating.

“What kind of history?” He asked. Lance looked away from Shiro, back down to that picture. It was a profile shot, catching that red robot eye perfectly. Sendak was smiling cruelly, because he always did. Lance shivered at the memories brought back because of this guy. When he looked back up, all six of them were circling him, trapping him behind that desk. 

“The kind where he blew me up with a bomb.”


	19. Mind Games- Keith/Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance agrees reluctantly to help.

Lance seemed to sort of shut down after his disquieting declaration. 

Keith watched as his eyes kind of just fogged over, a frown lining his lips and making his face look three times older. It was odd seeing Lance so disconnected, having gotten used to his overly happy chatter filling the background of noise. Shiro and Allura shared a brief look of concern, and Shiro walked to the other side of the desk to settle a hand on Lance’s shoulder gently.

The contact seemed to snap him out of it. 

Lance smiled brightly, but still a little strained. Like almost all evidence of bad memories had washed away. Keith was used to the look Lance had gotten, having seen it a hundred times over when Shiro was found a little over six months ago, after having been missing for a year. Lance was better at hiding it than Shiro was though, guess it came with the territory.

“It was lifetime ago though, no worries.” Lance said, completely nonchalant.

Allura looked unconvinced, for good measure, but her eyes sparked again. That same spark she gets when she has an idea on how to get what she wanted. She had that spark in her eyes as she looked over what Keith had on The Blue Lion for the first time.

“If you mean that, then I guess you’ll be assisting us in going after Sendak.” Allura said, voice casual but daring, eyes locked with Lance’s, who was leaned back in the chair. Keith saw the moment her words sunk in because that blinding smile dropped into a frown, eyes creasing in slight panic and shock. It was fleeting, but Keith saw it, and probably Allura too if the smile on her face had anything to say about. Sharp and slightly evil.

“I didn’t say that,” Lance said, leaning forward to try and fix his mistake far too late. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to send you back to prison.” She said. It was vaguely entertaining watching the notorious criminal be played. Lance relaxed slightly, then tensed in another bout of panic. Keith could see his mind rolling, playing back forth. Lance made his decision with a tensing of his jaw. He swallowed and then brightened into a blinding smile again.

“Where do we start?”

~~~~~

This is a bad idea.

This is a _really_ bad idea.

Ideas like this caused heists to go south. And yes, this was a _heist._ Lance isn’t quite sure who pitched the idea, but it was an awful one. A truly horrific idea. Ideas like this were insane, and deadly, and terrifyingly impossible if one thing is out of place. Or just terrifying in general.

_“Lance we can hear you grumbling to yourself, you’re supposed to be quiet.”_

That was Pidge’s voice, directly into his ear. He was strapped up in his heist outfit, plus a few added details of course, like the ankle monitor, and an earpiece in his ear. First thing they did to locate Sendak was Lance’s part. He had many contacts linked to the underground criminal social network, and after almost a week of squeezing every minor informant he had, Lance got a lead. 

Word has it that Sendak has been building up a team, one designed for a heist like many Lance has done in the past, and needed the main man to complete it. They were going after some very valuable jewels that were confiscated by Kogane on one of his busts. The prize was supposed to rack up more than thirty million dollars if all went well, but Lance has a bad feeling in his gut.

Now Lance isn’t superstitious. 

He doesn’t have a post or pre- heist ritual. Patterns like rituals are what get people caught. Patterns that Lance took great pains to avoid, but according to Pidge, he had gotten sloppy recently in light of the attack on innocents in his name. But he trusted his gut, and his gut was saying either run, or throw up. Hard to tell.

“I’m just saying, this is a bad idea.” Lance muttered one last time. He heard a chorus of sighs in his ear. He scowled, and turned towards the direction he knew Pidge was and discretely flipped whoever was still in the surveillance van off. 

_“Yes, you’ve said that, a hundred times.”_ Pidge said in his ear, but Lance ignored her and kept walking to the meet. They had yet to actually meet Sendak, which was a relief to Lance. Last thing he wanted was to be recognized. His hair may be shorter and a different color, and he may have bulked out a bit in the shoulders since they last met, but Lance was afraid Sendak would recognize him. It’s been years though, even longer then he’s been chased by the FBI, so maybe he’s changed just enough to fly under the radar.

Lance sucks in a breath as he reaches the destination. 

Keith and Allura should already be in place inside the building, waiting in case Lance gets into trouble, but letting Lance have the lead on this. Much to Kogane’s dismay.

Lance stepped through the doors of the office building, and made his way to the penthouse. His heart started to pick up, but Lance reached inside his soul to put on his mask for the meeting. He was ready for anything by the time the elevator doors opened and he stepped out. He let his eyes pass over Allura, who was working at a desk like a normal receptionist. She met his eyes as he passed but nothing else was exchanged between them. 

Keith walked by, pushing a janitor cart, and Lance almost wanted to laugh at the unhappy look he held.

Lance took a breath, plastered his charming smile across his face, and stepped inside. _He’s faced worse,_ Lance told himself. He’s seen war, and felt hunger, and known the effects of poison. He’s been shot at, blown up, and broken. He’s always risen up again, stronger and smarter and more clever than he was before. He could face anything.

_Anything._

Except for Sendak, standing dead center of the room, large arms crossed and surrounded by criminals. He was larger than Lance remembered, larger even than the photo suggested. Broader in the chest, thicker arms, big enough to crush a skull, and even larger thighs than he once remembered. Lance swallowed, bracing himself as eyes turned to him. 

_He could face anything,_ Lance said to himself once more, less determined and more a plea.


	20. Meltdown- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance learns the heist plan and then has a meltdown.

Lance’s breath is caught in his throat as he waits.

Sendak has his full attention as he looks Lance over. Lance likes to think that curious deja vu look has nothing to do with Lance himself. He prefers not thinking about the consequences if Sendak actually recognized him. Sendak takes his sweet time looking him over, or maybe time has just slowed for Lance. Like a cliche slow motion shot in a movie.

“You must be the man we talked to about a job earlier.” Sendak says, looking away and turning back to the doorway Lance stands in. He gets the hint, and lets it swing shut behind him before stepping forward with a cocky smile, heart racing so loud in his ear he feels like the people can hear his fear from it.

“That’s me, what are we looking at exactly?” Lance says, stepping forward more with all the cocky confidence he could muster. Leandro, his alias for the mission, was a cocky asshole who objectified women and had a penchant for irritating people. So like his normal self, but ten times worse.

“What’s your name?” Someone asks harshly beside Sendak. A brute of a man stands beside Sendak, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Lance recognizes him, from a file he was given by Keith before this all started. Apparently they had been able to get some people on the inside of Zarkon’s operations. This guy was called Antok, another alias. The bottom half of his face was covered in a mask.

Lance makes sure to wipe his expression of any recognition.

“The name’s Blue Lion, but you can call me Leandro.” Lance says, chucking his hip out and reaching into his jacket to pull out a toothpick to chew it. Like he said, asshole. Had to be the biggest asshole on this planet. Someone else speaks, standing closer to Lance than Sendak. There’s four of them, Sendak, Antok, this guy and a woman.

“I thought the Blue Lion was caught and arrested by the FBI?” The guy says, slim with a creepy looking face. Eyes just a little to wide to be normal, smile sharp, and teeth even sharper, like vampire fangs. A shiver tries to break through, but Lance cools it with a smile. He picks his toothpick out of his mouth and uses it to point at the guy.

“Amateur, the real Blue Lion, me, would never be caught.” Lance says. He hears a snort in his ear and fights off the urge to scowl at Pidge, clacking his teeth hard, making Pidge hiss. She had outfitted Lance with a very discreet ear piece, shoved so far into his ear that if he rubbed his ear, it would probably harm his eardrum. He also had a tooth microphone, and the latest of contact lens cameras. If Pidge typed into the lens thingies he would see floating words in front of him.

It was a last resort, didn’t want Lance to be caught reading thin air.

The group seemed to take it as it was, moving on and laying out the plans for the heist. It seems more complicated than necessary. The woman was to charm her way close to someone with a key pass into the building and swipe it off him, then give it to the creepy guy to use to get the truck into the gates. Antok was chosen to run the cameras on loop for five minutes while the heist went down.

Lance would be smuggled into the building, and had less than five minutes to get the jewels and get back to the truck without being seen. Easier said than done when he realized they left a lot of pertinent information out, that Lance already knows of from Keith. Which includes hand and eye scanners, and a layer of personnel guarding the warehouse, then he had to locate the jewels and get through it all backwards and back to the truck.

Within five minutes.

The heist was to go down tomorrow night. So Lance had until tomorrow night to prepare his tools and knowledge for a heist he wasn’t ready for. It isn’t the first time Lance has had to do rush jobs, but this was just a bit insane. Lance agreed anyways, despite the glint in Sendak’s eye promising him much misfortune if failed.

The thought of what Sendak would do to him if he saw past the cocky smile sent a surge of impractical panic through his chest. He could feel it tightening on the way back to the Castle, heart pumping faster than normal. He’s pretty sure he’s having a slight panic attack. And why wouldn’t he? Sendak physically clamped a hand over the creepy guy’s mouth to avoid giving Lance the information he needed for a heist. Which probably meant Lance was recognized. Which was bad. And panic inducing.

Lance marched back into the castle, ripping out his contacts and pulling out his ear piece before the entire team was inside the building. He marched over to the workbench Pidge and Hunk uses, setting the devices down more gently then the anxiousness in his veins suggested possible. The tooth would have to be taken out by Pidge, lest Lance ruin the technology. This team may be a well payed and government sanctioned operation, but Lance doubted they had all the money in the world. 

Lance paced around the room, rubbing his hands together, babbling in a mix of languages. He had no control over what he was saying, breakdowns like this rarely allow him to make coherent sentences in a chosen language, despite his mind being clear. He could hear the sounds of footsteps cautiously tracing his path as he worked from one wall to the other, mind working like a freight train. 

“Lance?” Allura asked, her accent slipping, making the alias sound more like ‘Lonce’. Lance ignored her probing question, preferring instead to keep pacing, but he halted as he came face to face with Shiro. Shiro seemed to actually look concerned, but Lance doubted he _really_ cared. Lance was a criminal, and the person who tormented his brother for three years.

“What’s wrong Lance? Why are you so anxious?” Allura said, now standing behind him. Lance whips around, knowing that Allura was the one he should be wary of the most out of everyone. He knows what she did, what caused her to leave the military. He knows just how dangerous she really is. His breathing picks up again and his eyes unfocus.

Is he hyperventilating? Probably.

“Because he recognized me! Sendak recognized me, he had to of. And that’s bad, for everyone, but especially for my health.” Lance said, throwing his hands in the air then bringing them down to start chewing on his nails. Which sucks, because he just got them done not too long ago. He broke away to babble again. He should really stop that.

Lance stepped around Allura and continued pacing.

“I spent years making sure that guy thought I was dead, that he finished the job.” Lance said, so quietly he was positive no one could hear him. But he didn’t care, he just wanted to get out of here. Take off the anklet like he’s so tempted to try, and go off the grid. Collect every dollar he’s stashed away and live on a farm or something. Retire.

But Keith would hunt him down.

Right? He’s been so vigilant, tracking Lance’s every move, hunting him down like the BloodHound he’s named after. Maybe Lance will never be free, always forced to look over his shoulder and live a life of secrecy. He’s on the verge of a complete mental breakdown when he’s forced to a stop.

Hands on his shoulders stop him in his tracks, clamping down hard. Not painful hard, but like forceful hard. And not forceful hard as in he has no choice but to obey, but forceful hard as in very persuasive. And not persuasive as in threatening, but persuasive as in relaxing. What was he doing again?

Right, freaking out, he forgot.

The hands on his shoulders force him to turn, and dark violet pools fill his blurry vision. It only takes a second of looking into those eyes to clear his eyesight up a little bit, no longer caught in a panic induced meltdown.

“Breath.” Keith says. A simple and lonely word, which should be useless against the state Lance was spiraling into. Keith demonstrates by breathing really loud and slow, and Lance knows what he’s doing. But he soon finds himself sucking in a deep breath, the tightness on his chest loosening, as he breaths in time with Keith’s. Keith nods, slowly, and after a moment Lance nods back. He can breath again.

“Better?” Keith asks.

Lance takes a second to calm his frazzled nerves, sucking in slow breaths to calm down. His arms drop to his sides, now that he wasn’t chewing away a nice manicure. It takes a moment, but Lance musters up a shaky smile.

“What are you, a one word wonder Kogane?”

Keith cocks an eyebrow then snorts, clapping Lance lightly on the shoulder.

“At least we know you aren’t broken anymore. Now let’s get you prepared for a heist.” Keith says. Lance huffs in indignation, but he dutifully follows Keith’s lead, prodding at the man to start up an argument. Something about hippos maybe, Lance doesn’t care. Nor does care for the eyes following his movements across the room.


	21. Trapped- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lace is found out.

_It was a trap._

Lance sees that now, as he sits in a warehouse, a gun pointed to his face. He should have seen it coming really. People don’t forget faces they know intimately so easily. He’s strangely calm as he stares down the barrel. Which was odd, considering just yesterday he was having a mental breakdown over the heist and Sendak and whatnot. 

The heist had gone off without a hitch. 

Lance flashes back to the heist, trying to figure out where things went wrong.

Lance had watched on the sidelines as he was smuggled past the main gate of the military base, where the warehouse was located. Nothing seemed to be wrong, even as Lance looks at it all with a clearer mind. They followed the plan as it was laid out, hardly needing to improvise. It was actually impressive, how detailed Sendak had thought this through. 

He entered the building through an open vent on the roof, and slipped through the air ducts to the desired room. Slipping past the guard was easy, security was particularly lax in this building. Makes sense when considering the fact that they were on a navy base with high security itself. Finding the target was actually the hardest part, because it seems no one has organized or even been in the building for decades. But he accomplished his mission and got back to extraction. 

_Wow,_ Lance thinks, _he needs to stop hanging out with Kogane._

They got out without even an alarm ringing and headed to a safehouse. Or at least they were going to. Perhaps that was when things went south, because Lance remembers a prick in his neck and then blackness. Next thing he knew he was being shocked awake with a bucket of ice water to the face. Which is where he finds himself now.

He couldn’t feel the cap on his tooth for the microphone, nor could he feel his earpiece. At least his contacts were in. Too bad he couldn’t communicate with the team. All for the best, he really didn’t want them yelling in his ear in his last moments. Okay, maybe that was a lie. He really wished they had never done the undercover in the first place. What kind of task force were they if their first operation went ass up? A bad one, that’s what.

“You really think you could fool me?” Sendak said, pacing in front of him, while the creepy guy held a gun in his face. Lance breathed slowly and snapped out of it. He wasn’t going to die, not today. It’s not his time. Or he really hopes it isn’t.

Lance smiles cooly.

“Now this isn’t very nice. You’re supposed to offer me a drink before getting down to business.” Lance says, rolling his wrists in his bindings. He was tied to a chair, chains not rope, with his hands at the small of his back. His feet were bound too. Which sucks, he could have at least kicked the creepy guy in the jewels. 

Sendak makes a scuffing sound, like a scoof paired with a short laugh maybe. 

“It’s curious. I could have sworn it was you that I blew up all those years ago.” Sendak says, and Lance swallows at the reminder, his scar burning on his back like it did that day. “How did you escape?” 

Lance shrugs as much as his chains would allow.

“Dumb luck and a fuck you still unsaid?” He says, running the back of his fingers against the back of the chair. It was wood, but smooth, polished. Meaning no nails he could use. Staples maybe? Hopefully. Creepy guy smiles a little, still too wide eyed to be normal, and Lance is almost positive he wasn’t blinking.

“Still sharp mouthed as ever aren’t you,” Sendak says, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Alexander, or is it Lance now?” Lance almost lets himself show fear, but he catches himself. Showing fear is signing a death warrant. His fingers scramble faster to find something he could use to pick the lock on the chains. 

“Who can say, it gets hard to keep up sometimes. If you knew who I was then why not kill me now?” Lance says, trying to keep Sendak talking. Talking means time, time means a better chance of escape or rescue. Sendak dangles a little pouch, the one holding the diamonds. The same diamonds that would fund Zarkon’s plans. Lance didn’t get the chance to swap them out with fakes yet.

His fingers catch on something. 

“In due time.” Sendak says, stepping closer, close enough that the gun had to be lowered lest it was pointing at Sendak as well. Lance winces when a whiff of bad breath is unavoidable. 

“Now,” Sendak says. His eyes are so dull they almost look yellow, much like his teeth. “You will tell me how you escaped, how you learned of the heist, and who you are working for now.” Lance swallows again, but focuses on working the stable had had stumbled on out.

“And for every wrong answer, you will lose a limb.” Sendak says, drawing Lance’s focus again as he taps a dagger against his crotch. His breath catches. “Starting with this.” _Oh boy, Kogane better hurry the hell up._


	22. Favors- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith calls in a favor.

“What do you mean you can’t find him!?” Keith yelled. 

Pidge scowled at him but didn’t look away from the three computers in front of her, hands flying across the keyboards faster than the speed of light. Keith chewed at his lip, sure that it was blood he was tasting in his mouth. Lance went dark two hours ago, his earwig and mouth microphone having been destroyed, and since Lance’s eyes were closed they couldn’t tell if they still had visuals. 

They had exhausted every physical lead, which wasn’t much anyways, so now Pidge and Hunk were trying to track Lance down via technology. So far no dice. They had gotten the chance to watch Lance in action through his point of view, and it was enlightening to say the least. Lance was a loudmouth, sarcastic, nosy idiot but when it comes to heists it’s almost like another person completely. 

Focused, determined, silent. 

It was clear that he truly was the real deal this time. Keith had still been on the fence. After all, Blue Lion was the most famous con artist and thief in the world. If not due to his own accomplishments, it was due to just the sheer amount of copycats that came in the wake. Last time Keith checked, after this last copycat who killed an injured some people, it was upwards of twenty. They did catch the real killer, and Keith took heat from the media for calling the killer the real deal. 

Blue Lion became more popular than ever. 

Now Keith’s lost him, his informant. Lance was _his_ responsibility, not Allura or Shiro or the FBI’s. Keith’s. The first criminal informant Keith takes on and he loses him on the first operation. What happened to being the rising star of the FBI, prodigy in his field and excellent at everything he does? Give or take at least.

Keith is shocked out of his dazed pacing by Pidge’s gasp. 

He looks towards Pidge and sees Lance’s contact feed was online. Keith was first to crowd up behind Pidge, but the rest of the team were not far behind. At first it was a wide look, and then it was slightly obscured by water droplets from Lance’s eyelashes. They didn’t have the mouth mic, so they couldn’t hear what was being said, nor the earwig to communicate with Lance.

The video swung around as Lance darted his eyes around. 

It was slightly blurry because he was looking around so fast, but Pidge typed a few commands on the keyboard, which cleared up the shakiness of the video and stabilized the picture. Right in time to watch as Lance blinks and gets on track. He seems chained up to a chair, and there was a gun in his face. Sendak stood just far enough away to have his full body in sight when Lance looks right at his face. He’s saying something.

“Pidge can you multitask?” Keith asks, and he takes her derisive scoff as answer enough. “I need you to analyze the background of the video, figure out Lance’s location, but I also need you to zoom in on Sendak’s face and slow it down.” 

Pidge pauses her typing briefly, allowing the video to destabilize again, just long enough for her to shoot him a raised eyebrow. Time was of the essence though, so she didn’t question him. After stabilizing the video once again, she uses one hand to keep up with that, and the other typing commands in between her other hand’s typing. Finally she pulled up Sendak’s face and slowed the video, leaving it to run. 

“Keith?” Shiro asked, a million words in a name. Keith didn’t answer verbally as he concentrated, but tapped his lips. Shiro seemed to get the hint. It takes a minute to distinguish what shapes Sendak’s mouth takes on certain sounds, but he catches on quick. Instead of distracting himself with speaking, he let his hands type out what he read without looking, a trick he learned in college. He can do it with writing as well. 

Sendak was threatening Lance, but without the second half of the conversation, it was like putting together a hundred piece puzzle with some pieces missing, some that are from other puzzles, and some that are ripped in half. Keith was also searching for facial and body cues, trying to discern what the hell Lance was probably saying. 

“How’s it going Pidge?” Shiro asks, taking over while Keith is busy. He vaguely registers it all in the back of his mind. He’s lucky for being such a seasoned agent, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to mindlessly type, listen and watch at the same time. Or maybe that was from his high school career. God he hated high school.

“They seem to be in an empty building of some sorts, metal walls. No major identifying marks, although Lance isn’t helping really with how much his eyes are moving.” Pidge says, her typing speeding up from where she had slowed down to speak. _God, don’t tell him._ If what she described was a warehouse, Keith is going to cry from the clear clicheness. 

“It looks like a warehouse to me.” Pidge says. _He jinxed it didn’t he?_ Warehouses were notoriously difficult to secure, especially if they're full of stuff. Too many hiding places, and choke points, and possible spots for ambush. It’s an agent’s worst nightmare. 

Empty ones proved their own type of difficulty though. Nowhere to take cover, enough room that crossfire is entirely too likely to be wanted. And there isn’t a way to use stealth, unless you pull a Lance and use a rooftop. Keith was starting to realize there was a certain pattern to Lance’s heists, rooftops. He almost always used the roof tops. No wonder too, the guy had to be a parkour lover or something. 

“The only problem,” Pidge continues, drawing Keith’s attention briefly before he refocuses on the screen. “Is that there are hundreds of warehouses in the city, there’s no telling where they’re holding him.” Keith scowls. He reads what Sendak is saying and freezes in shock before he drops what he’s doing as he reads Sendak threaten to cut off Lance’s dick. 

“Lance is about to talk, we need to find him, now.” Keith says.

Shiro and Pidge share a look, just as Hunk and Allura do. Shiro steps close to Keith, a hand on his shoulder. It’s grounding, the contact, but Keith shakes his head and steps away.

“How do you know he’s going to talk Keith? This is Lance we’re talking about.”

“Because Sendak just threatened to cut off Lance’s dick,” The guys in the room all winced and simultaneously covered they’re crotches with their hands. “Wouldn’t you talk?” A look is shared but no one answers as their eyes don’t meet Keith’s. He turns to start walking again, towards the door. They had stationed themselves in a little hotel room with Shiro, Keith and Pidge being in the surveillance truck. Then the truck got crowded. 

“Where are you going?” Allura calls after him, but he doesn’t respond. He pulls out his phone and starts dialing the number he wants before it even pops up on his contact list. She answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Romelle, it’s Keith. I’m cashing in a favor. I’m coming to pick you up.”


	23. Game Plan- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romelle cracks open the case.

"Guys this Romelle, Romelle this is the team." Keith said the moment the door to the castle was opened, not even stopping in his tracks. He just marched back up to the monitor to check on Lance. It seemed like Lance was babbling about nonsense. He knew without even having to read Sendak's lips. He had that same look Keith gets when Lance won't shut up.

"Hiya guys!" Romelle says, and Keith peeks over his shoulder at her. She was dressed to intimidate in a fancy gray pantsuit, and was currently shaking hands with everyone in the room rather aggressively. Her smile was wide, like it always is. Keith rolled his eyes and blew a sharp whistle through his teeth.

Romelle looks at him with wide eyes before practically skipping to meet up with Keith. She pressed close, which normally Keith would get uncomfortable with, but he was used to it. Pidge sat back down and started typing again to stabilize the camera feed.

"Alrighty what do we have here KeKe?" Romelle asks. Keith wants to wince when he hears his brother snort, horribly covering it with a cough. He ignores them all.

"My informant was captured and we need to find him before he gets killed. We've analysed that he's in some sort of warehouse but we don't know where." Keith says, debriefing her.

Romelle hums underneath her breath, and leans forward to look closer to the background. Then she's reaching over towards the keyboard, but her hands stop mid reach as she looks at Pidge.

"May I?" She says. Pidge nods and gives up the main keyboard. "Alright, how long ago did your informant go dark? And what was their location when they did? Also, when were they back online?” She asked, her bubbly smile gone to be replaced with total seriousness. Keith felt his shoulders relax just a little bit now that Melly was here. He answered her questions and stepped back as she stole his chair he wasn’t using anyways. Allura stepped up beside him, and leaned close to whisper in his ear.

“How do you know this Romelle?” Allura asked, brushing back her hair. Keith leaned to whisper in her ear himself when she stood back straight. His eyes kept track of everything Romelle was doing.

“We met on a joint operation a few months ago between the FBI and the CIA, and we kept in contact.” He said, Allura nodded, but they silenced as Romelle started talking through what she was doing.

“Alright so we’re looking for warehouses right? So first we need to pinpoint his exact location at the time of going dark, like this.” She said. The computer screen brought up a map of the city, pushing the video onto another screen. Pidge stopped what she was doing to pay attention. Hunk took over for Pidge, keeping the video stabilized while the rest of them crowded up behind Romelle. Kith ended up leaning right over her shoulder, with one hand on the table to stabilize himself so he wouldn’t fall. 

The map reloaded and there was a red dot in the exact spot they lost contact with Lance. 

“Now, we know it was about two hours before they came back online, so we have to assume that they were moving him the entire time. Probably by car. Which means we narrow down the search to a two hour radius, not including traffic.” Romelle typed in a few lines of code and the map zoomed in, a green circle on the radius she had configured.

“Now,” She continued. “We have to factor in the traffic and any delays or accidents that might redirect them from two hours ago.” The circle broke into a very squigly shape that vaguely resembles a circle. It had pressed in on some places and expanded in others. 

“Now the locations of all the warehouses in the perimeter we have set up.” She said, her voice lowering into an almost mumble as she typed. Keith set a hand on her shoulder and she cleared her throat, having been knocked out of the work stupor Keith knows she can get into when she’s following a lead. He needed her focused, not half focused on the task and half focused on some random thought in her head.

She typed in the locations, and the shape broke again into seven small red circles on top of warehouse locations across the map. 

“Now from the background we can tell that warehouse is empty, which means either it’s abandoned or not being used by the owners.” Romelle says, and she continues typing for a minute before three circles disappear, leaving them with four. 

“Now we know that they won’t take him into heavily trafficked areas, harder to move an unconscious or dead person with people around to witness.” She said, and Keith growled through his teeth at her for even suggesting that he could be killed, even if the possibility was great. Their window was closing with every second. 

“Any time now Romelle.” He says. Romelle pauses only briefly to glare at him before turning back to the computer. 

“Alright so once those factors are included we have,” Romelle says, drawing out the word as she types. She finishes typing with a flourish and rests back in pride as she watches the computer finish. “Our missing informant’s location. You owe me one Keke.” Keith sighs in relief as the last of the three disappear and give them their location, encased in a blinking green circle. 

He leans over to kiss her cheek, and she smiles happily as he breaks away.

“Good work Melly.” He says. “Alright everyone, gear up, we have an informant to save.” Keith takes charge and is already marching to the hidden wall of weapons, hidden from Lance most the time as to keep him from getting any bright ideas. This will be the last time they let him go anywhere without some sort of tracking device. 

Keith grabs his gun and vest, and then gears up for a battle, including his trusty dagger, gifted to him from his unknown mother. The blade was silver and double edged, with a purple gem cut into a certain design, like an elongated ‘s’ with sharp edges. The team are out the door within minutes while Keith sets up their game plan. 

_We’re coming Blue, hang in there._


	24. Catwalk- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance frees himself.

Lance can’t go on for much longer. 

He’s always been able to talk his way out of any situation, or just talk in general. Finding words, no matter what language he’s speaking, has always been easy for him. But it’s getting hard to keep talking nonsense so he doesn’t divulge actually important information. On the upside, he’s pissing Sendak off, so if he dies or gets castrated at least he has that to keep him happy.

Lance fights his smirk as he watches Sendak.

He’s at the point of frustration where he’s wanting to bang his head to something, but he is using his knife instead. Lance can’t help the satisfaction with the fact that he is still the bane of Sendak’s existence. It’s actually pretty hard to piss Sendak off for real, but Lance has the act down pat. 

He keeps a straight face when he feels the click of the padlock. 

“Stop playing around. Or else I will skip the torture and questions completely and skip right to the good stuff.” Sendak says, seeming to have finally had enough. He moves in closer, waving his knife menacingly in the air. However with that tiny twitch of his scarred eyebrow, Lance can’t take the man seriously. 

Like sure, he knows what the psychopath is capable of. He was blown up for heaven’s sake. So Lance knows Sendak will pull through with his threats, but that doesn’t deter Lance from not taking him seriously. Just, come on man, he’s got experience with threats. Look at Kogane. Step up your game.

Lance plays along though.

“Alright alright, I’ll stop pissing you off.” Lance says, leaning forward. He’s purposely easing up the tightness of the chains for when he makes his move. Creepy guy, who happens to be named Haxus it seems, has long since dozed off in the chair. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.” He says as quietly as possible. Sendak leans in, taking the bait Lance sets.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Lance doesn’t hesitate when Sendak comes within range. He launches his head forward as hard as he can, nailing Sendak in the nose and sending him flying back on his ass. Despite the slight dizziness the headbutt gave him, Lance launches his chair backwards. The movement dislodges the chains around his arms and chest and Lance launches forward when they slip over his head. This time the chains on his feet dislodge from the chair legs and he shakes off the chains.

Now his only bound limbs were his wrists behind his back. 

Sendak is still dealing with his broken nose on the ground but Haxus was awake. Lance yelps when he raises the gun and does a backbend like he’s in a movie just as the gun fires. Unlike in the movies though, he lands hard on his back. He takes a second to bring his arms in front of him with a few shimmies of his hips. Then Lance rolls to the side as three more bullets take his place, lodging themselves in the floor.

Lance estimates there to be fifteen bullets in the magazine, so he has to dodge another eleven bullets. 

_Fantastic._

He takes off, running straight for the stairs to the metal catwalk above them. His balance is slightly off because: 1) He’s been stuck in a chair for a few hours now without moving and his legs are asleep. And 2) His hands are bound in front of him, inhibiting the balancing factor of his arms. He reaches the stairs without being shot, although one bullet did come pretty close. 

So close Lance can smell his hair burning.

He trips on the first step of the stairs, cringing as another bullet ricochets off the metal. Sendak is on his feet now and coming for him, Haxus following. If Lance is correct that leaves about seven bullets left in the firearm. Hopefully it’s the only one they have on them. Sendak _is_ pretty cocky, it would be _just_ like him to only bring a knife and a gun to a torture session.

Another two bullets follow him, meaning five bullets left. 

Lance rounds the corner of the small platform and continues up the stairs as fast as he can. His lungs are burning, his legs like jelly at this point. He keeps pace though, running the last steps and bolting down the catwalk, Sendak hot on his heels. _Bang! Bang!_ Three bullets left.

Lance glances over his shoulder.

Sendak has reached the top of the stairs and they both seem suspended in time. Sendak is enraged, but his smile was cruel and his eyes hungry. Lance sucks in a breath, pushing down his fear. The moment breaks with another three bullets from Haxus on the small platform. Two miss, but the last one clips his shoulder in a graze. 

Almost like it had been delayed, fire erupts at the site of the wound and it’s all Lance can do to stay standing. He blinks the brief tears away, and glances at his hands. Their bound status is too inconvenient, and while Lance hates doing this, he has no choice. He bites his tongue, hard, when another burst of pain erupts in his dislocated thumb, but he’s free, the chains falling useless to the floor. 

He takes off again, skipping the stairs on the other side of the catwalk and just slides down the railing. the height is a little daunting, but he stays stable and soon he’s reaching ground level in a stumble. He relocates his thumb with a whimper before darting towards the doors. He mistakenly turn at the sound of two thuds.

Haxus and Sendak are ground level, having skipped the stairs in a whole new way. they had launched over the the railing and just plummeted to ground level without fear. They land in a roll, and while Haxu has to take a moment to stabilize himself, Sendak doesn’t even stop. Lance watches as the psycopath just uses the roll out of his landing as a running start.

Lance shrieks in a very unmanly way as he starts back towards the door. 

But Sendak must have been practicing, because he’s faster than Lance, and they crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Lance ends up pinned beneath Sendak’s weight, and he sees the flash of silver before he’s struggling like his life depended on it. It probably did actually. 

The fight only lasts a minute or two, and Lance can see in the corner of his eye as Haxus closes in on them. Two against one is so not fair. He struggles harder and there’s a sharp pain in his side. Lance somehow, by the fate of god, ends up dislodging Sendak and sending the knife tumbling across the floor. He’s on his feet and trying to run but he’s also dizzy and unbalanced still. Maybe he hit his head on the ground when they went down.

Lance sees his chance for escape close when Haxus pulls a Sendak and they both hit the ground. But then another miracle happens. Lance is pinned, with two very heavy enemies on top of him. His fight is draining just as fast as his strength. His life is flashing before his eyes, but a miracle happens.

The door Lance wants to get to so bad bursts open.

_“Let him go!”_


	25. Thy Aim Is True- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's viewpoint of the fight in the warehouse.

Keith was the first in the door of the warehouse.

He was actually premature in barging in, seeing as Allura and Hunk weren't in position just yet. He and Shiro took the front, with Hunk taking the back. Allura was pulling a Lance, entering from the roof onto the catwalk they know is there, thanks to the building schematics Pidge dug up. Coran, who apparently was a certified doctor, was on standby for any medical needs after they stormed the building. Meanwhile Pidge and Romelle were holed up in the van, rerouting the security alarms.

It would suck if reinforcements showed up.

Keith was supposed to wait on Allura's signal, so that they could cover every entry point at once. But Keith rushed the gun. It certainly wasn't his fault, when he heard Lance scream, his instincts took over. Shiro was on his six in seconds, but, left unprepared, Allura and Hunk entered late. Keith wanted to wince at the multiple profanities spilling from Allura's mouth as he heard through the comms her struggle with the rooftop window.

He wasn't quite prepared for what he saw when he entered.

Lance was struggling on the ground mere feet from the door, one of Sendak's lackeys on top of him attempting to strangle him. But Lance was wiggling wildly beneath him, just barely able to keep the fingers from getting a grip. At his entrance, there was a brief stillness that Keith took advantage of to gather his wits about him.

Other than Lance and the rest of the team, it was only Sendak and his lackey.

As expected the warehouse was empty. There was a tipped over chair in the middle of the room, and some chains scattered on the ground, but that was it. Oh, and a knife at Keith's feet, red with blood. He isn't sure whose blood, but there's just a little blood on the blade. Then all at once movement resumes.

Keith darts towards the struggling pair, afraid to use his gun in case Lance gets hit. Not that he wouldn't gladly shoot Lance. The man was annoying, and infuriating, but now was hardly the time. Maybe later. As revenge for getting captured possibly, just a little graze at least. Probably in the leg or shoulder. After the team went home, so he had more time before getting Shiro’s disappointed ‘Dad’ look. _Wait, what is he thinking? Focus._

Keith barrels head first into the lackey who has wide unblinking eyes. Normally, one would assume this would send the guy flying. But he must be built like a tank, because he only flips onto his back from the force. At least this gets him off Lance. Who is currently staring at him, sitting up just a little with an open mouth and wide eyes, and who is not running away like a sane person.

"Run Lance!" He yells, as the lackey gets right up and launches at Keith in return, sending them tumbling to the floor in a tangle of fists and kicks. Lance doesn't move. "Run you idiot!"

Keith doesn't spare another glance at Lance as the idiot _finally_ scrambles to stand, albeit a little wobbly. He gets punched in the face but returns the hit tenfold with one of his own. There's another slew of curses in his ear, slightly distracting him, as Pidge is yelling. There’s a blow to his gut that knocks the breath out of his chest in the split second he focused on his comms. While he's crumbled in half, the lackey scrambles to stand.

"Haxus! Get the boy!" Sendak yells, and the lackey, Haxus, starts running towards where Keith saw Lance last. _No way in hell buddio._ Shiro beats him to the punch, literally, sending Haxus sprawling to the floor. Keith's been on the other end of that metal fist. So he's smug in the knowledge of just how much that punch hurt like hell. Keith glances around to gauge the situation.

Allura and Hunk are holding their own against Sendak, but he's good, steadily holding them off. Hunk is pulling his punches though, so Keith guesses it was too soon to put him in the field. They can work on that, but right now, they need to end this and get out of here. Lance, who is still in the building, is leaning against the wall beside the door, his face twisted.

_Dammit Blue._

Keith is about to run to Lance and drag him out of the building by his shirt, which is kind of torn up at the bottom, when the door bursts open again. Now Keith understands why Pidge was cursing. Four men, dressed in a thin layer of armor, come crashing in. They have rifles and swords in their hands, and matching black masks. The first one in heads straight forward, but by the third, Lance was noticed. Keith felt his heart skip a beat when Lance launches off the wall, running straight towards Keith, not looking where he’s going.

Keith doesn't register that Lance isn't stopping until it's too late.

The two of them crash together, but this time Keith is ready, and he does what Shiro once did in his office. He takes Lance's weight like a linebacker, then rolls with the force of his momentum. He spins, and then sends Lance stumbling a few feet. Keith spares a moment to look at Lance bewildered.

"Can't believe that worked." He mumbles. Keith watches Lance's amused look fall into horror at something behind him. Keith doesn't even turn around, rolling with his instinct. He drops and does a half crouched spin, getting out of the way of the new masked enemy behind him. Said masked man stumbles a step, his gun raised to whip Keith in the head with the butt of his gun.

Keith kicks the masked man square in the jewels and leaves him crumbling with a high pitched whimper as he charges the next. It’s a hard fight, not helped by either Lance _or_ Hunk. With Hunk’s pulled hits combined with Lance just dancing around the edge of the fight, Keith has his hands full trying to end this and get a move on. Not to mention, the fact that Lance is being targeted. And it seems so is Shiro? Keith shakes it from his thoughts when he’s punched in the face.

He goes down.

His limbs are heavy, and slower than normal, so he can’t avoid it. Keith meets the floor like they’re old friends, and the one who punched him, as well as the other one Keith had been fighting, pin him down. Keith sees the blade before he knows what’s happening. His eyes involuntarily snap shut as he waits for the ending blow, but it never comes. Instead, the warehouse is filled with gunshots.

_Bang. Bang._

The two on top of Keith fall off of him, and he opens his eyes to see two perfect shots dead center of their foreheads. Two more shots ring out right after Keith registers this. _Bangbang._ Keith gets up, rubbing his jaw as he watches the other two masked men fall dead to the ground, foreheads marred by a single bullet each. Shiro had been fighting them off. 

Keith finds himself locking eyes with their resident criminal. 

Lance is leaning against a pillar, the arm squished between his body and the metal clenching his other side, while his right hand is loose at his side. Clenched in his fingers is Keith’s gun, notable by the bright red streak he had customized into the handle. His hands move to his holster, which was empty now. How Lance got the gun is beyond him.

The chaos of the fight seems frozen as everyone registers what happened.

Sendak and Haxus must have escaped sometime between Lance firing the gun, and Keith getting up to check the bodies. Hunk and Allura are leaning on each other, looking exhausted, and Shiro looks no better. 

“I didn’t know you were such a good aim Lance.” Shiro says, seemingly ignoring his own exhaustion. His face was pale, though Keith couldn’t figure why. Lance gets up off the pillar with a shrug, and Keith looks just in time to see him stumble slightly.

“No big deal.” Lance says, his voice creaky. Keith stands and meets the others as they surround Lance. Lance sends them a shaky smile and runs a hand over his chin, leaving behind a smear of blood.

“Uh Lance?” Allura asks. “Whose blood is that?” Lance blinks slowly and looks at his left hand, and then reaches for his side. His hand comes back covered in blood even more. _Oh no._

“Oh god, Lance!” Allura calls out, reaching out to him but then retracting her hands mid air. Her face is bruised and pinched in worry.

“Oh my.” Lance says. His words are slurring, and he stumbles back a step. “That’s not good.” Keith catches Lance when he collapses, sending word for Coran and an ambulance. Keith figured out where the blood on that knife came from.


	26. Hospital Jitters- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team wait for news on Lance.

It’s been an hour. 

An entire hour of pacing, and an entire hour of frustration, and an entire hour of worry. Lance was raced to the hospital, taken straight to ER, leaving the rest of them behind. Then a pushy nurse forced them all to get bandaged up as well, though their injuries were just cuts and bruises. Perhaps if Keith hadn’t have jumped the gun, they wouldn’t even be in this hospital. And perhaps if he hadn’t, Lance would be in a far worse condition. 

Not like Keith cared.

Because he didn’t, honestly. Lance was obnoxious, annoying and a pain in his ass. Has been for the worse part of three years really. He was always flirting with people, and whining that he was bored. And Lance did this thing with his ears when he wasn’t paying attention. He could move them, and it was like watching a cat’s ears swivel around to listen. Honestly, and he says Keith is kittenish? Yeah right.

Keith forces himself to sit down when Pidge growls at him over her computer screen. They were hoarding a waiting room all to themselves, all of them piled in and waiting for access to Lance. No one’s even told him whether or not Lance was out of surgery yet, or how bad it was. They’re in the dark, and it’s maddening.

Not that he cares.

His feet become jittery and Keith launches himself back to his pacing. Pidge only responds with a sigh. He was half tempted to start flashing his badge that technically isn’t his anymore. With joining Allura’s little task force, he’s officially no longer an FBI agent. It was weird bursting the door to that warehouse down and not yelling FBI, and not going in like he was a federal agent in the first place.

Keith sits down again, but only sits still for about three seconds before he’s tapping his foot. He checks his watch for the thousandth time in the past hour and groans when it shows only three minutes to have passed since his last check. He rubs his hands over his face, wincing when his fingernails catch on a small cut on his cheek. The doctors need to hurry up and tell him what’s going on.

For the others, because he doesn’t care.

Lance can go to hell for all Keith cares. Good riddance. No more pain in his ass, no more flirty jokes that are so bad they’re funny. No more having to check his pocket for his wallet. It would be heaven.

Not having to watch Lance hang upside down on the couch, baring his long neck to the world. Not having to feel crystalline eyes on his every movement while he trains, heating up his skin far more than a usual training session does. Not having to push away a smile when Lance starts telling outrageous stories that are just outside of being true, as far as they know. Not having to force his eyes away from Lance’s strong legs when he actually trains on his own.

Because he doesn’t care, obviously.

The door to the room opens and Keith launches to his feet. He plops back down the moment he registers Shiro’s prosthetic and Allura’s stunning white locks. He sighs louder than intended and runs a hand through his hair, messing up his ponytail again. He scowls as he fixes it for the millionth time. 

Keith looks at his watch again and swears the thing is broken.

“Keith, brother, calm down.” Shiro says, taking up the seat next to him and handing him a bad of pastries. “We’re all worried about Lance, but he’ll be fine. He’s a fighter after all.” Keith scowls over his pastry and takes a bite without looking at what he’s eating. He almost chokes on the sweetness.

“What the hell is this?” Keith asks with his mouth full. It isn’t bad tasting, he’s just never had it. It’s like an attack of sweetness on his sense, and god if he was to have any true weakness, this would probably be it.

“It’s a bear claw, and don’t change the subject.”

Keith rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the sweet treat. He winces again when he wipes away the glaze from his cheek and hits that cut again. Stupid thing is going to drive him crazy until it heals. 

“Shiro I’m fine, go canoodle with Allura or something and leave me alone.” Keith says. He feels a short string of satisfaction when both people in question blush, Allura turning away and sitting on the other side of the small room. Shiro smacks his shoulder hard, using his metal hand, and Keith almost bites through his own tongue. _Man that arm is strong._

“I’m serious, you know it’s alright to care about him, right? We all do, and we are all worried just as much as you.” Shiro says, his eyes slanting in that cross between concern and fondness Shiro practically invented. Keith tenses, recognizing that glint in Shiro’s eye again. 

“Well you can lay off, because I don’t care about Lance. He’s just a criminal.” _A criminal he’s chased almost obsessively for three years. A criminal who is obnoxious and annoying and endearing. A criminal with shocking blue eyes and a charming smile._

_Wait, fuck._

Keith curses himself when Shiro leans back with a smirk. “Whatever you say brother.” Shiro said, and then walked over to Allura and leaned in close to her. Too close to be anything but intimate. Keith leans back, not even caring if Shiro might have bad ideas in his head now. He doesn’t care about Lance, he can’t. Lance is a criminal, plain and simple.

The door opens again, and Keith is out of his chair before the white coat of the doctor is even visible. He can only just realise, in the back of his mind as he listens to the doctor talk, that he’s lying to himself.

“Lance is out of surgery, and is ready for visitors, but no more than two at a time. The wound was minor, but it nicked an artery, and we had to go in and stop the bleeding.” Keith feels his eyebrow twitch in impatience as the doctor takes his time. The doctor seems to recognize this and talks faster. “We’ll keep him over night for observations, but then he will be free to go on the condition that he rests and not strain himself for a few weeks. He’s in room-” 

Keith doesn’t even stop to hear the number of the room and cuts past the doctor to look for Lance. It takes him only a few minutes, and only one stop for directions by a handsome male nurse, before he locates the room. Lance is up, struggling over the side of the bed to reach his bed’s remote dangling from the wall. Keith forces Lance back into bed, though not with any extent of strength, and hands him the remote. Lance blinks at him for a moment.

“Well,” Lance says, voice raw, a smile curling up on his lips. Keith is fully prepared for Lance to hit on him this time. He isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing. “If you’re my nurse, I want to stay here forever.”

Keith can’t believe he actually cares for this dumbass.


	27. Hospital Talks- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance sets the team straight.

Lance turns away from the faint blush at Keith’s ear tips when the door opens again.

His smile drops as the rest of the team file into the room, despite the orders he knows for a fact the doctor relayed to them about only two at a time. It doesn’t matter, it’s best if he can speak to them all at once anyways. He settles his face into the blankest look he can. He doesn’t want to spook them, seeing as he is on strict bed rest for a week or few. The doctor even threatened to cuff him like he’s on suicide watch. 

He must have that ‘flight risk’ feel about him.

Shiro is the first one to step in, followed by Hunk and then Pidge and Coran. Allura is the last one in, and she closes the door behind her, probably to ward off the Doc. 

“Lance.” Allura says, her accent slipping a little to make it sound more like ‘Lonce’. Her shoulders sag in relief, and Lance feels a little guilty that he won’t let her stay that way. But he had to clear the air and set some things straight before he can let them apologize or whatever else. Surely that’s why they’re all here. Hunk he can understand worrying about him, and Coran. Lance has befriended them both.

“Allura.” He replies. His voice is emotionless, and it shows on the sudden coldness in the air. Lance wants to stand so badly, so that the two of them could be on equal ground, but doctor’s orders and all that jazz. “Why don’t you have a seat.” 

Allura steps back, her hands coming up to fold at her chest, wringing them slightly before she looks around the room. Lance doesn’t take his eyes off of her, but he can just imagine the confusion on everyone’s faces. She edges into the single chair. She sat pristinely, like she was having tea with the queen or something. Her eyes are wary, but not afraid. Worried maybe.

“Is everything alright?” She says, her accent perfect, losing all traces of that foreign sound that she sometimes gets. Her hands fold around each other in her lap, betraying her confident shoulders for the nerves she truly feels. Lance shakes his head no, and her eyes tilt in worry.

“I will not work in these conditions anymore.” He says, and there’s an intake of breath from Keith behind him. Lance ignores it. “I will not work in this task force if no one will hear my words. You’ve all been good to me, give or take. But I will not be treated like a criminal first, and a human second.” Allura jerks her head back.

“What-” Allura starts, but Lance cuts her off. 

“I told you, a million times. This plan? It was doomed from the start, but none of you listened to my plea.” Lance says, and he can’t hide the hurt washed among his words. 

“Lance-” Shiro says, trying to cut in, but one look from Lance and he silences. Good, he has their attention.

“I’m pretty smart if I do say so myself, especially with how long I avoided being caught from the government’s finest rising star.” Lance glances at Keith, who blinks at him like a deer in the headlights. “You should have listened and considered my opinion, especially since that’s why I’m here in the first place. I should never have been in the same room as Sendak. Me and him? We have too much history, too much to even pass by each other on opposite sides of the street and not recognize each other.”

Allura bows her head in shame, and fidgets, but doesn’t interrupt. 

“It should have been literally _anyone else,_ anyone but me meeting Sendak. Now he knows I’m alive, and he knows that _someone_ is after him, _and_ he has the diamonds.” He goes to run a hand through his hair and winces when he uses the arm with a gash in it. “What should have happened? Keith goes in as the Blue Lion, he knows me well enough to pull it off at least. When the heist began, we would have pulled a double switch. Then we would still have Sendak in the palm of our hands.”

“What’s a double switch?” Pidge asks. Lance goes to answer but is beat by Keith.

“One person is the front guy, and they switch when pulling the job, and then switch back when they go back to being the front guy.” Keith explains, and then gets defensive when Lance stares at him a moment too long. “It’s a common way we have undercover agents slip away to debrief before going back in without letting suspicions arising at their absence.”

“Look, Lance, we didn’t think-” Allura said.

“No,” He cuts in again. “You didn’t think. You didn’t think I was trustable enough to even consider that I know just a little more about disguises and heists than you. I mean, it isn’t like it’s my _job_ or anything.” 

There’s a silence that follows what Lance says, and he takes a deep breath. He isn’t truly _angry._ He’s just hurt that they would refuse to hear his words so much. What happened to being a team? A task force or whatever. And honestly, they need a name, instead of just calling themselves ‘a task force’. 

_Note to self: Think of a cool name for the team._

“Look, I’m not mad or anything, but if we keep going as we are? This close call will end being a last call. And as much as I am A-okay with being you’re front man, I like living thank you very much.” Lance smiles, but it’s weak, and overpowered by everyone’s cloying guilt. “So from now on, let’s just work as an actual team? Instead of ‘The team and Lance’, let’s just make it ‘the team’. Sound good?” 

Everyone shares a look amongst themselves, and then they all turn to Lance with sheepish smiles. They still reek of guilt and shame, but it isn’t quite as cloying anymore. He’ll take what he can get.

“Now, since we’re talking about being a team and a damn good task force, we need a name.”


	28. Old Fences- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance _almost_ sits on the next mission.

“How about a classic? The Dream Team.” Lance says into the mic, leaning back in his chair. He’s careful not to stretch too much, because the stitches are still just a tad bit sore. There’s a chorus of groans in his ear that makes Lance smile. It truly _is_ his calling to annoy people. 

_“God Lance, stop talking.”_ Pidge says, her voice desperate. Lance pouts at her, despite her not being able to see him. They were on a scouting mission to relocate Sendak and/or the diamonds Lance stole. And while normally, he probably would have been the first through the door, Allura was adamant he stay in the van. 

Said he was most useful guiding the rest of them. Lance knows she’s just trying to make up for letting him get hurt in their last mission, but he’s been through worse, and done far more while in that state.

_“Do I really have to be here?"_ Hunk said, his voice low and mumbled, probably because of his position on the mission. Poor guy. Lance types into the computer to bring up the videos from everyone’s contacts or glasses, pre stabilized thanks to one of Pidge’s algorithms. 

_“Sorry buddy,”_ Keith says, also mumbled. _“But we need you to be my look out. Lance, are we ready to proceed or not?”_

Lance silently mocks Keith as he switches back to the front of the building, which was some big corporation type. Lots of windows, lots of people in suits, and lots of security. He zooms back in on the front door, just barely able to see Allura inside on one of the couches. Her white hair is gone for today, replaced with a sleek back wig full of delicate curls. The target blocks his view of her when he enters the doors.

“Target has entered the building, Allura you’re a go. Remember what I taught you. Bump, grab, slip.” He says. He watches from Allura’s glasses camera as she gets up. She performs flawlessly, bumping into the man with an apologetic smile as she walks out of the building, and he just barely catches a glimpse of the key card they wanted. 

“Pidge, you’re up.” 

_“Roger that.”_ Pidge says. She’s dressed for her height, like she’s a young teenage girl, also with a wig made of long straight blonde hair. Lance switches to her own glasses camera, fixed onto her usual glasses, watching as her head leans down slightly to look at her turned off ‘phone’. It’s actually a cloning device, or whatever, designed to clone the information on the key card through her phone and onto a blank one. Good guys, they get all the cool toys.

Allura discreetly hands off the card to Pidge as she saunters out of the building.

“Keith, heads up. Pidge is headed your way.” Lance says, pulling Keith’s camera feed up so he’s ready to switch from Pidge’s. Pidge keeps walking like nothing happened, straight to Keith’s position. He’s dressed like a janitor again, because janitor’s can get access to practically anywhere. 

Pidge starts up her phone and Lance watches as she uses her fancy toy to clone the key card. Pidge slips the cloned key card into a wad of crumpled up paper, and tosses it into Keith’s trash bag as she takes a seat on the couch, ditching the key card on the floor, and pulls out a computer from her messenger bag. Lance pulls up Keith’s feed.

“Alright Keith, head to the stairway, and wait for me to tell you when you reach the blindspot.” He says. He ditches Keith’s camera feed to look at the stairway cameras, courtesy of Pidge. Allura hops into the van right then, kicking off her heels and getting rid of the wig and fancy suit jacket. The glasses come off last, just as Keith steps into the stairwell. Lance had directed him before they began to walk with a limp so that his slowness wouldn’t seem out of place even in the stairwell.

“Alright everyone, so far so good. What about the _Phantom Enforcers?_ Eh? It sounds ominous, to strike fear in our enemies.” Lance says. He’s greeted with another chorus of groans.

_“How about we call ourselves The Silent Game.”_ Keith snapped back in frustration, slowly limping around the stairwell until Lance finds that blindspot. Lance hums as if he was actually thinking about it.

“No, I think that one’s taken. Oh, stop there Keith, and change into your suit.” Lance says when Keith is just enough between cameras that he won’t be seen. Bummer, Lance would have _loved_ to watch that surveillance video. It takes Keith longer than Lance would have taken, changing into a fancy suit he had hidden in the trash bag Pidge threw the card into. He steps out into view of the camera, and Lance’s heart does a somersault. 

The suit is a black three piece, complete with a black silk button up, a deep red vest, a black jacket and pants, and a black tie. No one should look so good in such dark colors. Keith is just wrapping up the finishing touches on his slicked back hair. Add on to the fact that Keith has a little bit of a five o’clock shadow and he looks like a rich, stunning, white collar bachelor.

Lance can’t resist wolf whistling at Keith, and sends the snapshot of Keith to everyone’s respective camera feeds. Keith blinks in shock, probably when he realizes he’s looking at himself, and then flips off Lance through the surveillance camera. However, the damage is done, and Shiro, Coran and Pidge start quietly cat calling Keith.

_“You actually clean up nice brother.”_ Shiro says, laughing quietly. Lance takes pleasure when Keith’s ear tips turn red. One of these days, he’s going to make Keith blush so hard it travels all the way across his face and down his neck. 

“Alright, enough of that. Keith, you’re clear to move forward to Hunk’s position.” Allura says, though not without a hint of her own huor peeking through her words.

“Ooh, I got it. The Force of Justice.” Lance says. Pidge actually rewards him with a scoff rather than a groan.

_“Lame. That the best you got Blue Man Crew?”_ Pidge says, shaking her head enough that the video from her glasses becomes briefly unstable. Lance lets out an offended noise. He is the Blue Lion, not the _Blue Man Crew._ How dare she? The Blue Man Crew is cool and all, but they are not on his level.

“Fine. You ready for this Pidgeon?” Lance fires back as he watches Keith start climbing the stairs two at a time. “How about- Keith, cover!”

Keith follows Lance’s orders, barely managing to duck out of the view of the stairs window. It was close, Keith almost walked head first into a group of businessmen heading towards the elevator. It should be lunch right about now, so everyone is clearing out for something to eat. Lance watches through the surveillance camera until the group disappears into the elevator.

“Alright Keith. You’ve got one last floor, and then I’m locked out of the building’s cameras. Be extra cautious, I only see what you and Hunk see now.” Lance says. He brings Hunk’s feed up beside Keith’s. The hall seems clear from Hunk’s point of view, so he gives Keith the go ahead.

“Scan the keycard so Pidge can hack the systems and get me eyes in the sky.” Keith flips off the stair surveillance camera again, but does as asked. It takes a moment, but Pidge is a genius. Keith moves forward with the plan. Hunk, who is guarding the door they want in as a hired bodyguard, unlocks it for Keith. This part of the plan is where things get tricky.

This time around, per Lance’s demands and advice, they set up a more detailed plan. Complete with two extra escape routes, and a backup plan should the first go south. That backup plan is why Hunk is so nervous in the first place. The first plan, and the most thought out one by far, is for them to get the information needed off this business guy’s computer, and then extract everyone at once. Keith and Hunk will join Shiro, who is posing as a window washer, and is currently hanging off the side of a building. Coran and Romelle will reel them to the roof. They will all then take the elevator down to ground level using Keith’s keycard and leave the building. 

Plan B is where things get dangerous for Hunk.

With Lance on the sidelines, if Plan A goes south, they can’t extract Hunk. The information on the diamonds, and in relation, Sendak, must be collected ASAP. If the diamonds are sold, then there will be hell to pay for losing them. A good fence will erase all trace of the diamonds when they sell. The business man, some boring suit with way too much time on his hands, is the fence. Or more specifically, one of Lance’s old fences.

No one knows that of course.

Plan B is all on Hunk. He’ll go deep cover until he gets the chance to extract the information. Setting Hunk up as a bodyguard was easy enough. The entire team have a handful of backstopped identities ready to go. And while it would probably be easier to just have Hunk go in, since he has full access to the room, no one wants to put Hunk in that much more danger. Not even Allura. 

However, even though this is an in and out mission for Keith, there’s a catch, because there’s always a catch. Everything and everyone has an agenda, even his ‘friends’ from before he got caught, and even the friends he’s got with him now. It’s something he has to keep reminding himself when they start bantering or just hanging out in general. Lance is expendable, and they only want him here for his skills as the Blue Lion. They don’t want him for who he is, because they don’t _know_ who he really is. 

The glamour of a criminal lifestyle.

There’s a brief moment of silence on the comms, a breath of tension before the door opens. When the door is open, it’ll send an alert to Lance’s old fence, and it’s all a matter of response time. By now the man must be out of the building. Lance has gotten to know his schedule well, since he’s meticulous in his movements. They have about twenty to thirty minutes to get in and out of there. 

Lance looks to Allura, who’s been riding shotgun in the van, waiting for her go.

“Keith you’re a go.” Allura says, and Keith and Hunk snap into action. Keith slips in easily, the door shutting behind him. Lance pulls up Pidge’s feed, watching as her fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to start hacking into the computer once Keith hooks up the flashdrive. The moment Keith slips it into the computer, Pidge is typing away faster than ever. 

Now to wait.

It’s maybe ten minutes later when things seem to go south, because why wouldn’t they? Lance tenses as he watches the his old fence, someone who’s name slips his memory from unimportance, steps into the elevator to head back up.

“Houston we have a problem,” Lance says, making Pidge stutter in her typing. She keeps going like a champ though. “Our bad guy is coming back up, something must have delayed his exit from the building. Pidge?”

Lance looks into her camera feed, seeing her head shake almost imperceptibly, but just enough to throw the visual haywire for a moment before the algorithm picks back up the slack. 

_“I’m only halfway finished, there’s more firewalls on this computer than even the President has. I need more time. Ten minutes tops.”_ She says, her teeth audible grinding over her mic. He winces and turns off the transmitter in her tooth mic. The earwigs can be used to communicate, but it’s harder to record conversations. Though the tooth mic is no better, due to all the gross sounds a mouth makes. They really need to figure another way to record conversations. 

“We don’t have ten minutes, we have maybe five. If we’re lucky.” Lance says, watching the elevator camera as the lift climbs too fast for his liking. Lance looks away, trying to figure things out, figure out a way to save Hunk from his worst nightmare. He’s busy running through a million ideas when Allura’s hand snaps to grab his arm. Her eyes are focused on the screen in front of her, focused solely on the hallway Hunk is in, and the opening elevator doors. 

“Pidge?” She asks, her voice tight. Lance swallows thickly. There’s many reasons Lance dropped this guy as his fence, but the main one was his hidden cruelty. Lance doesn’t like it when people are cruel to others for fun. And this guy, his methods are almost worse than Sendak’s. Sendak focuses his cruelty on a single person, whereas What’shisface directs his cruelty on another to affect one. In other words, he goes after the friends and family of his targets. 

Not fun. 

_“Sixty percent! I can’t type any faster!”_ Pidge whisper yells. His heart picks up as he watches through Hunk’s camera feed. He’s eye to eye with What’shisface, and Lance can practically see Hunk breaking under the pressure. His heart jumps, thumping so loud he can’t even hear as Hunk dodges the heat in What’shisface’s words effortlessly, though not calmly.

When Hunk winces enough to block some of the visual Lance snaps into action. 

“Keith, hide in the ceiling, Hunk, hang on buddy. I’m coming for you. Both of you.” He says, and then he’s already snatching up Shiro’s suit jacket and hopping out of the van before Allura can stop him. He adjusts himself into the new persona he’s adopting. 

_Blue Lion has entered the building._


	29. Prorok the Fence- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's view of Lance's distraction.

_“Keith, hide in the ceiling-”_ Lance had said. 

Keith, of course, didn’t disobey and used the desk to pull himself into the ceiling. It’s thin, barely able to hold his weight without falling through. Other than that, he is perfectly fine with staying up here, especially once the guy they were stealing information from walked. He looked around with beady eyes, slowly moving across the room as Keith watched from above. 

Keith looked around for a way around this guy, maybe even a weapon. The janitor uniform didn’t really allow for hidden weapons. The cart maybe, but it was decided against in the final stages of the planning process. 

He curses as he catches sight of the USB drive thing Pidge made for him.

It’s still connected to the computer, and Pidge expressly told him not to yank it out before she was done no matter what or they’d lose everything. Keith held his breath as the target walks directly beneath Keith, and he lets the ceiling tile he was holding up slip shut before he could be spotted. 

_“Anyone have eyes on Lance?”_ Allura asked over the comms, and Keith is reminded that Lance went rogue. God, when this mission is over, Keith is beating his ass. He wants to reply out loud, but then he’d be compromised. There’s an intake of breath and suddenly the door opens again. Briefly, Keith thinks Hunk is blowing his cover and pulling something Keith would do, but he’s wrong when someone else walks into the room. 

Keith almost doesn’t recognize him, if not for Shiro’s suit jacket.

Lance saunters into the room lazily, a hat Keith’s never seen before perched on top of his head and hiding his face from Keith. That’s it, they’re all gonna die. The man who owns the room twirls around, almost falling on his ass. Keith takes a moment to look at the scene. Their target, some guy who goes by Prorok, is short, plump, and has neck roll gunk that makes Keith want to puke. 

Lance is the complete opposite in appearances.

Tall, lithe, dressed in a casual business sort with a t- shirt and jeans with Shiro’s suit jacket. Which kind of looks tight around Lance’s shoulder, and it shows off the broadness of his chest. His very strong chest, and very strong thighs encased so well in those jeans. _Wow, eyes up Kogane,_ Keith says to himself before he can get carried away.

“Well, if it isn’t an old colleague of mine. I assume it was you who set off my alarm?” Prorok says, crossing his arms and raising his chin like he’s trying to stare down his nose at someone far taller than him. Lance chuckles, swiping off the fedora with a charming flip of the hat before bowing with a sarcastic smile.

“At your service.” Lance says, then does another hat trick when he slips it back onto his head. Allura’s voice filters in his ear, but with all of his attention on Lance, Keith barely hears her.

_“Keith has eyes on Lance, hold your positions, we’re patching the feed through.”_

Lance moves to lean casually against the desk, effectively blocking it from Prorok’s line of sight. He looks at his nails, like he does when he’s trying to piss Keith off with a challenge or dare. Keith was always weak to that side eyed look lance gives him, and always caves into doing something stupid to one-up Lance. Sometimes he wins, sometimes Lance does. It’s a tie as of now. 

“And no need to sound upset, us splitting was just business. You know how it is, right?” Lance says, like he was trying to sooth the heart he just ripped in half with a breakup. Slick and deceitful. No wonder Lance is so good at being a thief. That sly tongue of his could get him anything he wants. Or as the saying goes, _he could drop the panties of a nun._ Prorok’s eyes narrow even more than they already were, making him look like he was constipated. 

“You blackballed me and nearly ruined my business. Why are you here Prince? Or whatever you call yourself these days.” Prorok says. Lance picks up the stapler and starts snapping it closed and making a _click click click_ sound. He points at Prorok with the stapler before waving it in the air lazily while he spoke. 

“I wanted to know if we could have one last go, for old times sake is all. I’ve got some paintings I need fenced, but my usual fence has the heat on their tail so I’m stuck with three Matisse paintings ready to sell. Care to help a guy out?” Lance says, setting down the stapler and stepping forward only a step with his hand out to shake. 

_“I got it! Download is complete.”_ Pidge said. Keith sees the brief tensing of Lance’s hand, as if to grab the drive, but he’s too far away. Stepping back towards the desk is suspicious, so they have no way to get it before Prorok sees. Keith is mid freak out, when he sees Prorok sneer at Lance.

“No deal, I work only for one person now. I don’t need a traitor’s business. Now leave.” Prorok says, but he doesn’t wait for Lance to leave on his own, already pushing him out the door. The door is almost shut when Prorok yells at Hunk, firing him. Hunk hesitates, but he leaves. Keith tries to slip out of the ceiling as quickly and quietly as possible, and has the drive in hand when the door slips shut. Keith tenses when he hears the locks turn in the door, and he rushes to try the handle. But Keith is locked in, and with Hunk being ‘fired’ he has no exit strategy. 

Shiro is at the end of the hallway, outside a storage room a few doors down. Keith tries the windows in the office, but off course these don’t open, and smashing the window isn’t an option. Too much danger for pedestrians below with all the falling glass. Keith is halfway to a panic attack when he registers he’s being talked to in his ear. 

_“Keith! Keith do you copy?”_ Allura says. She sounds stressed and exhausted. Who wouldn’t with the bullshit she has to endure? Keith swallows thickly and breathes slowly, shutting his eyes so they can’t see him as he freaks out.

“I’m here Allura, you wouldn’t happen to have a way out of here would you? I’m kind of trapped inside the office.” There’s a groan in response to his claim and he opens his eyes to try to find more exits. Maybe he needs to think like the Blue Lion? Except how does one do that? How does Lance think his way out of situations like these? 

_“Uh guys?”_ Hunk says, his voice a cross between relieved and worried sick. _“Lance isn’t behind me in the stairway anymore. And I’m almost to the ground floor.”_

“It’s fine Hunk, exit the building and come to the van. Pidge you too.” Allura says, far more calm than she was mere seconds ago. _“Lance must have some sort of plan going on, so I say we take his advice and trust him.”_

“Just great,” Keith says. “I’m entrusting my freedom to an idiot.”


	30. Just an Informant- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are going to _LOVE_ this chapter.

Keith got bored of waiting, so he started doing pushups about ten minutes ago.

No one had eyes on Lance, not even the surveillance cameras, and soon Prorok would be back after lunch. Shiro, Coran and Romelle were also stuck on the roof, seeing as they had been planning to use Keith’s cloned key card to get back inside. When Keith managed to actually work up a sweat, he froze when there was a thumping noise. No one had warned him that Prorok was on his way up, so he chalks up the noise to the building settling.

At least, he did, up until the moment Lance dropped from above into the room.

Keith wasn’t looking up when it happened, so he has no idea how Lance dropped into the room. He watches with wide eyes as Lance brushes himself off, still wearing Shiro’s suit jacket. 

“If you’re supposed to be ‘rescuing me’ you sure took your damn time.” Keith says, although it wasn’t what he was actually planning on saying. He wanted to say something along the lines of a thanks, but things don’t seem to want to work in his favor. Lance adopts an actual offended look, not seeming to be pretending this time.

“’Scuse you, I was in the ventilation system. It’s not as easy as I make things look you know.” Lance says, crossing his arms and pouting. Keith is ashamed to admit that it’s a cute look on him, so he doesn’t. Out loud anyways. “And who are you calling an idiot?”

Keith doesn’t even want to know how Lance knows he said that.

“And how do you propose we get out of here? The doors locked, and I would prefer not giving Prorok any reason to rush back by setting off the silent alarm again.” Keith fires back. Lance opens his mouth to make a comment, but he stops himself, and tilts his head. 

“Who the hell is Prorok?” 

Keith looks at him like he’s an idiot, which he is, but this is just icing on the cake. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to respond, but Lance seems to forget about the conversation all together.

“Whatever. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Lance says, pointing up at the ceiling again. Keith glances up, and then does a double take when he realizes a metal cover is gone. How the hell is he supposed to fit into that tiny space?

“Up you go Kogane, time to blow this popsicle stand.” 

Keith doesn’t have time to question Lance’s sanity again, when Allura makes a comment on the reappearance of Prorok and his business friends. He glances back at the door, then at Lance, who is kneeling with his hands cupped for Keith to use as a step up. He sighs, and takes Lance’s offer for a step up and grasps the edges of the opening. 

He’s positive he’s going to end up just hanging there, but Lance pushes him up. Keith just barely manages to squeeze his shoulders into the opening to pull himself. There’s no possible way that Lance will fit through that. His shoulders are broader than Keith’s, and Keith could barely fit through himself. 

“Coming up.” Lance says, then Keith loses sight of him since he’s fully pressed into the space of the ventilation shaft. He shifts, adjusts, and watches Lance turn into some sort of boneless mass, because that is the only way Keith can understand the fluidity Lance had with pulling himself up. He’s suddenly thrown into the realization that Lance has done this a million times before. Keith wants to punch himself for never thinking of looking in the ventilations shafts of Lance’s victims.

It’s five minutes of squirming through the ventilations before Keith is told to drop into the next room with a vent. It isn’t graceful on his part in the slightest. He tumbles head first into a small closet, barely big enough to fit all the cleaning supplies, let alone that and two people. Lance, thankfully waits for Keith to push up against the wall before slipping out feet first. Then, while they’re squeezed tight, Lance puts in an earwig.

Guess that answers Keith’s earlier question.

“Hey Pidge, we’re in a janitor’s closet a few doors down from the target’s office.” Lance says. “Are we clear to slip out?”

_“Sorry, but you guys took too long, everyone’s back from lunch and the halls are swarming.”_ Pidge replies. Keith stifles a groan at the back of his throat. This means they’re stuck here until the commotion dies a little. 

“Copy that Pidgeon. We’ll wait for the all clear then.” Lance says, and starts shifting. The closet is smaller than Keith originally perceived it to be. There’s a shelf digging into Keith’s back, and a mop bucket right behind his legs. Lance’s shifting isn’t helping matters either, because they’re pressed so close. Keith hisses when Lance’s leg presses between Keith’s, creating a very _unnecessary_ friction.

“Stop moving.” Keith hisses quietly, his face heating up. Lance freezes in just the wrong way, pressing upwards between his legs. Keith fights back a choked sound, knowing the others can hear on his mic. He looks up, locking eyes with Lance. Keith watches Lance blink slowly, then feels Lance shift his leg again, so Keith’s groin was pressed to his thigh.

_God_ this is embarrassing, he’s going to kill Lance if the others find out that he got horny on a mission.

Keith feels dread fill him from head to toe as a devious smile curls slowly on Lance’s lips. Then his leg is shifting again, and Keith snaps his eyes shut, tilting his head back. He wants to tell Lance to stop, knows he should, but his body has other plans. He’s fighting against the urge to dry hump Lance like a horny dog, but the few jerky thrusts that slip past his control breaks it down even more. 

A pair of lips settle against Keith’s neck, and he can _feel_ the prideful smirk on Lance’s lips before his neck is attacked. A shiver breaks free and with it a hard thrust of his hips. It’s all he can do to stop from making any noise. They can’t be doing this. What if someone opens the door on them? Or what if their team figures out what’s going on? Lance is his criminal informant, nothing more. Handlers don’t do this kind of thing with their criminals. 

Lance snaps him out of his own head with a sharp nip at Keith’s weak spot.

Keith sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and grinds harder on Lance’s thigh, hearing a breathy chuckle at his ear. Lance grips his hips, forcing the slow jerky thrusts Keith was doing this whole time into faster movements. Keith grips at Lance’s shoulder, digging his nails into his brother’s suit jacket. 

_Oh god, is his brother hearing this?_

_“Keith, Lance, status?”_ Allura asks, and Keith briefly panics when he realizes Lance isn’t slowing Keith’s hips at all, and nor is he answering. Lance nips at Keith’s collarbone as one hand strays up under his shirt and vest. Keith swallows as he rushes to answer before his pleasure gets the best of him.

“We’re-” He pauses as Lance tugs at Keith right nipple, digging his teeth into his lip. “Just waiting for Pidge’s green light.” Keith is thankful his voice stays even, even as Lance ups the stakes of this game they’re playing. The hand on his hip let’s go, but his hips are free from Keith’s control and keeps moving, keeps grinding. A hand slips his zipper down, and Keith feels his heart spike in anticipation.

But Pidge has the _worst_ timing imaginable.

_“You guys are clear.”_ She says and everything stops. The thigh between his legs, his own hips, the hand at the front of his suit pants and the hand up his shirt. Keith could cry when Lance pulls away like nothing happened, replying even as he eyes Keith like a piece of meat.

_Just an informant, just an informant, just an informant._

“Thanks Pidge, Shiro we’re on our way for you guys.” Lance says, fixing Keith’s clothing as Keith tries his hardest to will his arousal away. It doesn’t work, and he’s forced to deal with it as Lance gives him one last smirk-y once over, bites his lip, and slips out of the closet. Keith takes a moment to adjust himself to hide his arousal as best he can before following. They take the stairs, and the entire way up to the roof Keith has a wonderful and torturous view of Lance’s very nice ass.

_Just an informant, just an informant._

When they finally make it to the roof, both of them flushed and breathless from the workout, and maybe what happened in the closet, Keith is almost grateful. With the presence of his brother, he has a reason to stop staring at Lance’s- _oh no, his contacts._ He forgot that he had been wearing the camera contacts. 

_Please don’t let Allura be like his brother, and show it to everyone._


	31. Time for Murder- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro scares Lance with a 'talk'.

Lance is probably a little too smug in front of the others.

Who wouldn’t be? He got to experience the sinful taste of Keith’s skin, and on top of that, he got to tease the hell out of Keith. Lance can’t help his smirk everytime the thought of Keith’s face in that closet came to mind. A red blush across his nose, eyes lown wide, lips swollen from where Keith had attacked them with his teeth to stay quiet. Lance can’t decide if he would have preferred for Keith to make noise.

They’re back at the castle now, already devising a plan to get both the diamonds _and_ Sendak.

It’s probably been over two hours since they started, and Lance is bored, hungry, and still just a little bit horny after The Closet Incident. Which is what Keith calls their _experience_ in the closet, the moment all recording and listening devices were removed, and they had the room to themselves. He, of course, promised Keith not to say a word, but damn if he couldn’t stop thinking of it. It’s actually gotten so bad that the others kept sending him looks. 

Keith as well, but his ‘looks’ were more glares.

Lance excused himself for something to eat, raiding the small fridges in everyone’s offices. So not fair, everyone gets an office to themselves and Lance still has to sleep on the workout bench? This is cruel and unusual punishment. He pouts as he shoves a sandwich into his mouth.

“Hey Lance?” 

Lance almost makes himself choke when he hides the sandwich, which was actually Keith’s, and flips around to face Shiro. He looks amused, but also a little unsure. Lance can’t say anything back because his mouth is full, so he just gives a closed lip smile. Shiro rolls his eyes.

“I don’t care, I won’t tell Keith it was you when he finds out.” Shiro says, smiling a little, but then becoming unsure again. “I actually came down to talk to you.” Lance accidently swallows his bite hole, making him want to choke, but he plays it off. 

_Oh god, Shiro’s going to bring up The Closet Incident. He’s a dead man._

“What’s up?” Lance says, his voice maybe a pitch to high as he smiles nervously. His eyes flick to the door, hoping Keith or someone walks in. Shiro seems to have the same idea, because he shifts his feet in place.

“Can we go to my office? It’s more,” Shiro pauses, then finishes lamely. “Private.” Lance’s heart rate spikes a little, and he’s cursing himself in his head. A million escape excuses come to mind, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s running away. Never run away from a predator, and if you ask Lance, that’s exactly what Shiro is in this instant. He doesn’t come up with anything fast enough, and next thing he knows they’re in Shiro’s office, with the door locked.

Is this the part where Shiro kills him for putting hands on his little brother?

Wait, no, it can’t be. Not even Shiro would be dumb enough to kill someone in their office. There would be too much blood everywhere, unless Shiro goes with breaking his neck. _Oh god, this is the end._ Shiro’s going to murder him, hide his body and make it look like he ditched the anklet and went underground. He’s too young to die.

“Why do you look so nervous?” Shiro asks, and Lance breaks free from thoughts of impending death to squeak like a mouse. God, is this going to be his last act as a living person? Squeaking in fear? He always thought he would go out in some big heist, with his future wife or husband, sort of like Bonnie and Clyde, but not in an ambush.

Shiro smiles in confusion, his eyebrows creasing low over his eyes. It’s actually kind of cute on Shiro, which is even worse. He’s going to die thinking his killer was cute, how lame.

“I just want to ask you a question, something personal?” Shiro continues, though it’s more of a question in the end than a statement. Lance feels relief fill him for only a second. Questions are good, they’re safe, unless he asks about Keith. _And we’re back to quaking in our boots, you coward._

“I’m not going to bite Lance, really. There’s no need to be nervous. Honestly, I thought I was going to be the nervous one here.” Shiro says. Lance really does stop his over imagining this time, looking at Shiro in a new light. Shiro looks sort of afraid, but afraid of what?

“Shiro? What did you want to ask?” Lance says, feeling calm enough that he goes to take a bite of his sandwich again. Shiro takes a deep breath.

“What does it mean to be called a Champion?” Shiro blurts out, and Lance drops his sandwich in shock. He doesn’t mind it, looking at Shiro with a seriousness he hasn’t felt in a while. 

“Where did you hear that?”

Shiro looks at him unsure, glancing at the door behind Lance. He keeps his eyes locked on Shiro, his body nearly stinging with the familiarity of the title. Maybe he’s wrong though, maybe Shiro is meaning it in relation to Zarkon’s following. 

“Those masked guys you killed,” Shiro says. Lance flinches, his heart twisting, but he ignores it. “They called me Champion. What does that mean? You seem to know more about Zarkon’s following than we do.” 

Lance shuts his eyes in pain before Shiro even reaches the title once more. He feels a shiver try to slither down his spine, but he stands tall, even more so than usual. When he opens his again, he looks at Shiro with a dead seriousness that stings even Lance. 

Lance turns away and facing the blinds to the office. He catches sight of Keith going into his office, and he snaps the blinds closed. He faces Shiro again with a frown.

“I think we should have a talk.”


	32. Shovel Talk- Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's right, there _is_ a shovel talk from Shiro! And other stuff, but whatever.

Shiro is fidgeting like kid in the principal's office, nervous and skittish.

Lance lowers himself into his chair again, prepared for anything, maybe. He adjusts himself to look as non threatening as possible, which seems to help Shiro calm down. Lance gestures at the chair beside him, and when Shiro takes a seat, they both shift their chairs so they can face each other. Lance bites the bullet.

“Shiro, how much do you remember of the year you were prisoner?” 

Shiro jerks, his shoulders tightening again, and it makes Lance feel bad to bring bad memories, but he needs to know the answer. It’s imperative to what happens next with the team. Shiro’s eyebrows crease.

“How did you know about that?” He says. Lance rolls his eyes, kind of offended that he would ask such a thing. He’s the Blue Lion for fuck’s sake. Do they honestly think he doesn’t do his homework?

“I know everything, now how much?” Is all he says. He’s not going to go into detail of just how _much_ he knows about his team. He wouldn’t have given up so easily when Keith pinned him in that alley if he hadn’t of done his research. Had to know what kind of people he was going to be working with after all. He gave Keith hell though, that’s for sure. And on the plus side, he got see Keith embarrass himself on T.V. when he said Lance wasn’t the real Blue Lion and had the entire city looking for nothing.

_Golden._

“Well, not much really.” Shiro says, his eyes darting to the floor. Lance truly feels bad for what he’s about to have Shiro do, but it is completely necessary. Surely Lance has built up enough of a rapport with the team for Shiro to talk candidly. They may not be actual friends, and probably never will be, but surely he’s far enough for this.

“Can you try to tell me what you do?” Lance asks, and Shiro looks him in the eyes. The moment Lance recognizes that Shiro is looking for something in Lance’s face, he softens up his expression. He’s perfected every expression he could master, even minute ones. Let’s just say, he never has a bad picture of himself, when he actually _has_ pictures taken anyways. Shiro deflates with a sigh.

“I only remember flashes. Putting myself in front of Matt to save him, then never seeing him or the Commander again. Lots of fighting.” Shiro says. He looks down at his hands, and rubs the metal one like it ached. Lance doesn’t push him, allowing him to work himself up to whatever he had to say. Shiro sucks in a breath, then looks up at Lance from his hunched state. His eyes are cloudy, like he’s not completely there, and he rubs the metal hard enough to make a squeaking sound. 

“Lots of fighting.” He repeats. “Sometimes with a weapon, mostly bare handed. I would be pitted against other people, or sometimes rabid animals.” Shiro’s head drops again.

Lance doesn’t stop Shiro, even though he’s heard everything he needs to know. It seems like Shiro hasn’t taken the time to talk about it, so Lance will be his ears until Shiro can’t talk about it any further. His heart clenches in pain as Shiro’s shoulders tighten so hard, Lance is afraid the buttons of his shirt will pop off. 

That would actually be kinda hot, he’s saving that image for a later date for sure.

“I don’t remember much more than that, just a brief flash of my escape and then the weeks after are clear. I remember explosions, and chaos, and running.” Shiro breaks off for a moment. “Then I spent two weeks clawing across the desert before I finally passed out in front of a Marine Base. Next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital stateside, missing a limb, with my baby brother asleep in a chair beside me.”

Lance lets out a slow breath, letting Shiro pull himself out of the memory, but he gives the man an anchor by laying a hand over his clasped ones. It takes a moment, then Shiro is sucking a wet breath in and shaking his head. He smiles, albeit a little wobbly, and forces out a laugh. 

“I haven’t even told Keith about that.” Shiro mutters, and speak of the devil, there’s a pounding at the door. Keith’s voice is just muffled enough to sound like nothing but wordless yelling. Lance’s own alias is just barely understandable through the door. He cracks a smile and stands to leave when the pounding and screaming cuts off. 

“Oh and Lance.” Shiro says. Lance turns around to see all evidence of his past wiped from Shiro’s face. Instead his face is creased into a creepily nice smile. Lance’s flight instinct kicks in, but he’s rooted in place like a deer in the headlights. Shiro steps close to him, lays a hand on his shoulder with thump, then steps even closer. Shiro’s so close, the only thing keeping Lance from backbending back into his personal bubble is Shiro’s hard grip. _Damn that metal hand is powerful._

Shiro leans to speak into Lance’s ear, and Lance freezes in fear.

“I don’t know what you want out of my baby brother, but know this. I will sooner masacre a city of innocent people for my brother than let him get hurt. That said, if all this is to you is a game, I suggest you end it. Now.” Shiro says in a very menacing tone. 

“Otherwise, I’m going to hunt you down, and cut you up, limb by limb, starting with fingers and toes. I’ll keep you alive for all of it too, allow you to heal before moving on.” The grip on his shoulder tightens, and Lance fights a whimper. 

“And when we get to nothing but your torso and head left, I’ll force feed you your own toes and fingers, then I’ll strangle you with your own intestines, and then finish it all off with a clean beheading.”

They stay still like that a moment, before Shiro leans back with that creepily sweet as sugar smile still plastered on his face. 

“Also, I don’t know exactly what went on in that closet, but I suggest you don’t do it where Allura has video to prove it happened at all. I will not be so nice next time.” Shiro says, then claps his shoulder. The only thing running through Lance’s mind as Shiro exits the office is one of incredulity. 

_**That** was Shiro’s nice side?_


	33. Champion- Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New plan.

Shiro realized in about three seconds that Lance never actually answered him.

It's too late though, he had already given him the shovel talk, one of his best ones yet, and walked out. He can’t go back to his office, it would ruin the whole ‘murderous vibe’ he wanted to give off. Plus he’s already back upstairs, so leaving now would be weird and suspicious.

Keith would kill him if he knew about Shiro’s ‘talk’ with Lance.

_But, come on man, in the middle of an operation?_ Shiro shivers as he recalls the video Allura had showed him. Most of it was circumstantial, but the video of Keith eye raping Lance? That was enough proof for him. Too much if you ask Shiro. 

It takes a few minutes for everyone to settle back for the planning of their next mission, but eventually they do. The last ones in the door are Lance and his little brother, who is suspiciously avoiding eye contact with Shiro. That doesn’t spell out anything Shiro truly wants to read so he drops it.

“Right,” Allura says, clearing her throat. “Shall we continue where we left off?” The question is rhetorical, but Lance doesn’t seem to get it as he stands up.

“Actually, if I may Princess?” Lance says, a flirty smile on his lips. Shiro’s eyes narrow at Lance, and his mind is flooded with images of murder. Lance glances at him and coughs, adjusting his shirt. Shiro smirks as he watches a trail of sweat form on Lance’s neck.

“What is it?” Allura asks. “And don’t call me Princess.” 

“Right, sorry. I think we need to forget about the diamonds and go after something else.” Lance says, and he’s interrupted before he can continue, by none other than Keith.

“What? Why would we do that? The diamonds are the only lead we have on any of Zarkon’s following. How can we go after ‘something else’ when all we have is the diamonds?” Keith finishes with one of his signature glares, and Shiro’s just relieved to see his usual badass brother back in action instead of the blushing weirdo he’s been as of late. 

Lance glares back before reaching for the computer screen on Allura’s desk. It’s become their official space for planning because Lance likes it so much. He throws a pouting fit if they don’t use it and Keith caves every time. 

“As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted.” Lance says, obviously meaning Keith. “We do have another target.” Then Lance switches gears completely. “Do you want to know _why_ Sendak tried to blow me up?”

It’s quiet a moment as everyone registers the change in topic. 

“Uh,” Hunk says slowly. “Because he and all of Zarkon’s people are psychopaths on a path of destruction and world domination?”

Lance smiles and points at Hunk. “Yes, but no.” This time they just silently agree to let Lance be his dramatic self. Lance drops his smile, and reaches to the computer screen. He pulls up a sketch pad that was definitely not there before. He begins drawing using his finger as the pencil. And, surprisingly it turns out he’s pretty good at it.

“Wait, where did you learn to use this computer?” Allura says half way through Lance’s drawing. He doesn’t even miss a beat, talking as a picture forms in front of their eyes.

“I break into the office at night and play on it when I can’t force myself to sleep on the workout bench or Hunk’s couch.” He says. They all stare at him for a moment, and then Pidge slaps the table. All eyes look at her, and even Lance pauses in his drawing, which looks a little familiar.

“That’s what we forgot!” She yells looking at Allura. Allura only stares back in obvious confusion. 

“What?” Allura says.

“Lance! We forgot to get him a place to stay!” Pidge says. It takes a moment but the realization sets in on Shiro a beat later. He looks back to Lance, who is staring at them all, one by one, with a look of confusion.

“You didn’t do that on purpose?” Lance asks, and Keith is the first to respond, beating Shiro to the punch.

“Why would we do that?” Keith asks. Lance opens his mouth, then he closes it and shakes his head. He leans back over the desk to finish his drawing. 

“Nevermind about that. This, this is our new target. Or targets I guess.” Lance said. When his arm moves out of Shiro’s way he’s hit in the face with a memory. It isn’t a fragment this time, or blurry whatsoever. It’s clear in his mind, clearer than even his more pleasant of memories. 

It’s a fight, one where he’s against two seasoned opponents. He’s still a prisoner in the memory, clear by the ragged clothing that once used to be his space suit. It’s close to the end of the fight, and Shiro is standing over the two men down on the ground. One is unconscious, the other is weeping silently, with almost inhumanly green eyes. Shiro is saved from the memory just as he was plunging a knife directly at the weeping man. He’s lucky that he doesn’t see the end, but he knows. 

He knows what he did, as well as he knows his brother’s scowl.

“They’re called Arena’s, and they are, essentially, the backbone to Zarkon’s entire network.” Lance says as he draws a smaller picture of to the side, a picture of a Roman Gladiator.

“Zarkon, he’s a madan born in the wrong era. The way he works, the way he thinks, it’s completely Ancient Roman in nature. He thrives on violence. These arenas?” Lance pauses for effect, clear by the tiny taps of his finger to count the seconds. It slingshots Shiro into another memory, a blurry one. He’s counting the seconds between guards as he escapes.

“They are his Colosseums.” 

“Wait,” Pidge says. “How do you know about all of this?” Lance clears the sketch pad and sits down, probably no longer needing visual representation. His hands settle on the table and he stares at them.

“Because I’m the one who destroyed them.” Lance says. “A few years ago, I got ahold of the list of Zarkon’s arena’s through my talents. Then one by one I destroyed them all. Remember that brief period where there was no activity from Zarkon or his followers?” He glances up at them, but continues without an answer. 

“I destabilized his network, making him go to ground. Someone must have pieced together my involvement and Sendak hunted me down for it. He tried to make it poetic, using how I destroyed the arenas to kill me.” 

Lance is silent again, but no one dares to speak up. This is the most information Lance has told them about himself in one sitting. The mystery’s keeping them craving for more. No wonder he stays so secretive, it must be very empowering holding someone’s interest by the neck like this. 

“I thought I ended the arenas, but I guess with my supposed ‘death’ they started rebuilding. If we can take these down once more, we might have more of an opening to take down Zarkon.” Lance says. 

“What makes you think they started rebuilding?” Keith asks. 

“Champion.” Lance says, and Shiro nearly jolts in his seat. He wasn’t expecting Lance to answer at all, let alone have that be Lance’s answer. His throat tightens as he waits for Lance to elaborate.

“It’s what they called the survivors of every month before a new batch of prisoners would be brought in, and every year around Christmas, they would pit all the Champions in a battle royal.” Lance looks over at Shiro, and he frowns. From the look on Lance’s face, he would have to hazard a guess that he wanted Shiro’s permission. He swallows, and braces himself, before nodding consent to Lance.

“Some of those goons at the warehouse called Shiro ‘Champion’. My guess? They want their champion fighter back, and me dead.” Lance finishes at last. “Any questions?” Pidge’s hand shoots up like she’s in school and Lance points at her. 

“How do you know so much about Zarkon?” She says.

“Wrong question. Anyone else?” Lance asks, but Pidge makes an offended noise.

“How can a question be wrong? It’s a question.” She said, crossing her arms with a glare. Lance points at her again with a small smile.

“That’s wrong too. Food anyone?” Lance says, and he and Pidge lock eyes. Shiro feels a gut reaction he only gets when he knows Keith is about to do something stupid. Like jump off a building just because he was trying to catch Lance. 

“Wait-” Shiro says, but he’s too late. Lance grins impishly, and Pidge launches out of her seat. Lance moves out of the room like it’s on fire while laughing, Pidge hot on his tail. Shiro lays his head down on the table with a sigh, trying to stem the growing headache behind his eyes as he hears Lance and Pidge run around downstairs. He flinches when he hears a crash, and both Hunk and Keith race out of the room to make sure it wasn’t one of their stuff broken.

_God give me strength,_ Shiro says to himself.


	34. Silver Haired Woman- Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith follows his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who's been reading, and commenting and liking my work. It fills me with joy to know people like this story! Feel free to look at my other stories, or send me a request for a story you want, or even to recommend your own works! 
> 
> Also check me out on tumblr. It's the same name I use here, which is brittysauce.
> 
> Thanks again, and never stop reading!

Keith is insanely bored.

Like, kill-me-now bored. He's so bored he's taken to using his custom made knife as a nail filer. Keith's fairly sure he hasn't been this bored since high school, which is saying something because his teachers were robots. They had to have been, humans lack the capacity to be so lame.

He sighs, looking back up at his camera monitor.

He's in the surveillance van again, doing nothing but watching Lance walk around aimlessly in a park. They're supposed to be meeting his informant, the person who will get them their first Arena target. 

Except it's been three hours. 

He’s alone in the van now, Pidge having left for coffee about ten minutes ago. If you asked Keith what he thought this new job would entail, he certainly wouldn’t have said watching Lance prance around in a well made suit, flirt with men and women hanging around the park, and make more of those annoying names for their team. They were all equally bad, and every time he said one it made Keith want to throw himself off a building just a little bit more. 

The only reason he had taken on this new job without as much reluctance as he normally would have was surveillance. He figured, with Allura, he wouldn’t be stuck in a cramped surveillance van for hours or even days on end anymore. Jokes on him. 

Keith rubbed away the sting in his eyes before turning back to the monitor.

He’s just in time too, because there’s something in the corner of the screen that catches his attention. He isn’t what it is, they are just far enough away that they’re barely caught in the camera’s range. Keith bites his lip in contemplation. On one hand, it could be absolutely nothing, but on the other, his gut tells him it is. 

He really wants to follow up. 

For one, it could be a threat to his informant, to Lance. For two, Lance isn’t armed, never is, not even with a knife. And despite his obviously amazing aim, he refuses to touch a weapon of any kind, no matter how much Keith bates him into a competition. Keith has tried a thousand times since the warehouse to get Lance to show Keith the exact range of his aim. But Lance refuses. 

Keith has seen the way Lance looks at his gun though.

Lance has watched the team as they practice in their aim when they’re training. His eyes turn hungry, like all he wants is to just handle the weapon and care for it. Then that hunger washes off his face, along with some of his natural color (if it is natural, you never know), and then his eyes get heavy with remorse. Lance usually can’t stay in the same room very long once the hunger turns to remorse. So far, the longest time was five minutes before Lance bolted.

Not like Keith has been watching him or anything.

Keith runs a hand down his face as his mind is made up. He scribbles a quick note down, grabs an earwig, lets Lance know he’s leaving the van, and steps into burning sunlight. He’s pushing the earpiece in as he’s walking, slowly so as to not draw any attention. 

It takes a few minutes of easing through the crowded park, but he finally catches up to whatever he saw on that monitor.

He only sees them turn a corner, so he pulls out his gun discreetly, and sidles up to the corner. He takes a deep breath to get into the mindset needed for a fire fight, you know, just in case, and peeks around the corner. Keith lands eyes on Haxus talking with someone, and goes back to hiding. He lets out the deep breath and peeks again.

Keith was right the first time, it’s definitely Haxus. 

He’s wearing a normal business suit, no tie, but no matter how loose that jacket was, Keith could see him packing. The holster was longer than normal, which meant he was carrying a silencer. That fact makes this entire situation that much more worse. Keith eases away from the corner to take cover and warn the others, but his eyes catch on a ladder leading to the roof of the building. 

Keith ditches the warning, and climbs the ladder quickly and quietly.

Next thing he knows he’s on the roof, and peeking over the top at Haxus and who he’s speaking with. Haxus is hidden by the building, but now Keith has good eyes on his friend. It’s a woman, one Keith has never seen before, but rings a small bell in the back of his mind like he _has._

She’s tall, but no taller than Allura. In fact the two of them look like before and after images. This woman had white hair like Allura’s except hers was more silvery, suggesting it was natural. Her face is half hidden behind a giant pair of sunglasses, but she’s dressed in all business clothes. A smart gray pencil skirt and jacket and a black silk undershirt. 

They’re too quiet for Keith to hear them, but Keith can read lips. 

They seem to be arguing over something, mentioning a botched job or whatever. Haxus says something, using his hands angrily, but the woman shuts him down with a sharp ‘enough’. She grits her teeth, so it’s harder for Keith to read her, but he reads her lips perfectly when he sees Lance’s alias, ‘Alexander’. 

Keith grits his teeth, trying to read more, but his hand slips underneath him, sending loose gravel falling over the edge.

He snaps beneath their line of sight and crawls to the ladder. He’s down to ground level quick, and he freezes when he realizes he doesn’t hear anything. No shouting, no gunshots, not even muted gunshots. Keith takes the chance to peek around the corner again, his gun ready and waiting in his tight grip. He relaxes when he sees no one there, and darts into the alley. The only exit Keith sees is the one they came in by, but the two people are gone.

_“Hey Kogane, got the information. Where you at buddy?”_

Keith jumps and curses out loud as he hears Lance in his ear, almost shooting his foot clean off. He turns the safety on and holsters his weapon, then runs his hands through his hair and yanks at his ponytail so hard a few hairs come loose.

_“Kogane?”_ Lance says again.

Keith sighs and shakes his head, heading back to the van. He may have lost Haxus and that woman, but at least they have Lance’s lead to follow up on. What concerns him is the fact that they were arguing about Lance. How did Lance get so tangled up in all of this in the first place? The way that woman spit his name out, or his other name anyways, you would think there’s a personal grudge.

“I’m on my way back to the van.” Keith says, before he starts weaving through the crowds again. 

He needs to talk to Allura.


	35. New Office- Lance/Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finally gets an office. Sort of a cute filler chapter because I'm weak.

Lance is finishing up a book he snagged from Shiro’s office when he realizes how late it is. 

He sets the cheesy romance novel (the thought of Shiro in his office, engrossed in a cheesy romance novel has him fighting a burst of laughter) aside on the workout bench and looks up at the upstairs office. Most everyone has gone home by now, except for their fearless leaders. They were still upstairs planning or something. 

Lance could care less. 

His job on the team is simple. Be their front guy, steal or go undercover when they need him to, and make sure everyone gets out alive. Technically, that last one is mainly Keith and Shiro’s job, but Lance is starting to get fond of this ragtag group of weirdos. It would be a real bummer if one of them got hurt. 

Lance sighs long and hard as he tries to find something to do.

When his only options seem to be practicing his fighting or reading more cheesy romance novels he starts up the stairs to see if the others need help. He open’s the door, his eyes low when he does so.

“Hey do you need any-” Lance looks up and freezes. Shiro and Allura jump apart from where they had clearly been in a heavy make out session, faces flushed. Allura adjusts her top so her white bra is no longer showing, and Shiro runs his metal hand through his already messy hair floof. Lance snaps his jaw shut and turns on his heel. “Nope.” 

He sits back down on the workbench, a smirk on his lips. Guess the fearless leaders are a thing now. Lance picks up another cheesy romance novel and starts reading casually as he waits for the two of them to come downstairs. Maybe he could use this to his advantage, to get something he really wants. 

They descend the staircase at the same time, but Shiro doesn’t look at him, his face blood red. Allura has composed herself a little bit more than Shiro has. They split off, Shiro heading for the showers and Allura coming straight for him. Lance bites off his smile as best he can. Figures Shiro would be the shy one between them. 

“Lance.” Allura says, her voice kind of squeaky. She clears her throat, and speaks almost completely naturally. “Would you please do me the favour of not mentioning this to Coran?” 

That peeks Lance’s interest, and Allura seems to realize her mistake. Out of everyone on the team, everyone in the world Lance could tell, she asks him not to mention it to Coran? Not to Pidge, who is notorious for stashing away blackmail on people until she needs it. Not to Hunk, who is terrible at keeping secrets in the first place, or Keith, Shiro’s little brother. She doesn’t even ask Lance to pretend he never saw what he did. Just not to mention it to Coran.

Fascinating. 

“Why?” Lance asks, setting his book aside, and leaning forward in interest. Allura flushes again, but she takes a moment to compose herself. Deep breaths and closed eyes. 

“It’s just that,” Allura starts, her eyes glancing to the door where Shiro vanished through. “Everytime I start a relationship, Coran gives me _the talk._ ” She says, finishing off with a strained whisper. Lance pops an eyebrow, his curiosity set on fire even more than ever.

“The bird and the bees, or the use protection?” The question sends another blush on her cheeks, and Lance hums to himself. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen the daughter of the late President Alfor lose her composure so easily before. Fascinating. 

“Both.” She says, her voice squeaking again. A smile curls on his lips against his will. This is perfect. He could totally milk this for whatever he wanted. Allura gets a wary look on her face so Lance settles his. 

“Okay.” He says, and Allura starts to relax. “On one condition I want an office, with a tall ceiling, and the ability to do whatever I want with it.” Allura’s face slackens in shock and disbelief. What? He didn’t say he wanted something _big_ or _ominous._ He justs wants his own office, for many reasons, but mainly it helps set him on equal ground with everyone else. This way he’s not looked at as just a tool. He hates being looked at that way, h’s had enough of it to last two lifetimes. 

“That’s it? An office? That’s all you want?” Allura asks, her incredulity seeming to grow with every word. Lance huffs with a small pout. 

“I’m not a bad person Allura. It’s not like I want you to become my slave or something. Give me _some_ credit, geez.” He says. Allura smiles genuinely and agrees. Satisfied, Lance picks up his book and casually brings up Shiro.

“Shiro’s been in the shower for a while, you should probably go check on him.” Lance says smiling. “Make sure he hasn’t fallen or anything.”

“Lance!” Allura says scandalized. Lance gives her a look, and her face flushes before she scurries off to the showers. Lance sneaks into Pidge’s office and puts on her headphones, not wanting to hear anything but music until they leave. 

Later that week the walls to Lance’s new office were standing. 

~~~ 

Keith walks into the Castle one day, and there they are, just popped up out of nowhere. Walls for another office, on the other side of Hunk’s on the right wall. Lance was still passed out on Hunk’s couch, in the office farthest from the doors. All of the offices were separate but connected. Pidge and Hunk’s were two offices, separated only by a wall and door, and now Hunk’s and Lance’s is the same. Keith and Shiro’s are the same, but they usually both just use Keith’s. 

It made the room a little bit lopsided, but it still seemed to work out. 

Keith dropped his work out bag in his office and goes to wake Lance. He’s barely able to fit on the small couch. His legs from mid thigh and down hung off the end, his upper body slanted so his head was just shy of hanging off the couch. He was close to the edge, one shift and he’s on the floor. 

A tempting thought.

He has an eye mask on, that looks like the eyes of a lion (except it’s blue, because of course) and Pidge’s headphones over his ears, blasting music. It’s not an uncommon sight to see Lance like this. The man can sleep practically everywhere and probably through a hurricane if he really tried. Keith gently lifts one of the headphones off his head, letting pop music flood the room. Keith smirks and draws in a deep breath and prepares to yell in Lance’s ear.

“WAKEY WAKEY SUNSHINE!” Keith yells at the top of his lungs. Lance flinches awake with a snort, and then face plants the floor when he shifts even slightly. The headphones slip off his head when falls, tangling around his shoulder and trapping one of his arms against his side. Lance groans and Keith bursts out laughing. 

Lance looks ridiculous. 

Like a cat tangled up in yarn. Keith laughs so hard tears fill his eyes. He forces himself to calm down, unable to stop a few chuckles from escaping as he wipes at his eyes. He shakes his head as Lance turns to look at him with evil eyes. Keith laughs again and walks away.

“You seem to have an office now Lance, wonder how you swung that.” Keith says. He looks back to see Lance struggling to stand, his arm still pinned by the overly long headphone cord. He nearly runs face first into the door to follow Keith. He watches as Lance seems to light up the moment the walls of his office come to view. 

Keith fights a smile as Lance unwraps himself from the cord, cursing in slurred Spanish, and then rushes to the new office. His heart flutters when Lance lets out a delighted squeal, and he tamps down the smile trying match the fluttering. He does _not_ need that right now. 

Lance spends the rest of the day setting up his new office. 

Pidge and Hunk join him in listening to the commotion inside the new space, making idle chatter and guesses to what Lance could possibly be doing behind those walls. Throughout the day there’s noise from Lance’s office. During lunch, during training, during planning and even when they go downstairs to the gun range. 

Such sounds include, but are not limited to: screw gun noise, drilling, electric saws, and a hammer banging against the wall. Lance’s voice is also peppered into the noise. A few yelps of pain, grunts, cries of frustration. There was a crash at one point, quickly followed by Lance yelling “I’m okay!”

Keith feels like the entire ordeal is straight out of a cartoon montage. 

It’s almost dinner time and Lance still has yet to come out, even for food. The noise has died a bit, so everyone has gathered to see if he’ll finally show them his new office. Even Allura and Coran were waiting. Keith turns to Allura with a raised eyebrow. 

“Why exactly did you agree to this new office again?” He asks. Allura doesn’t answer, but her face reddens a little. He narrows his eyes at Allura, ready to pry it out of her, but he’s interrupted by Lance squeezing through a thin opening of his doorway. He’s kind of wild looking, the most unkempt he’s ever seen Lance be. Not even when he woke up was Lance this much of a mess. 

“Welcome comrades!” Lance yells, spreading his arms wide. “I would to thank everyone for their patience, I know it was agony. Especially for you Pidge, but fear not! The wait was worth it! I poured by blood, sweat and tears into this office, and I must say, I’m extremely proud of my work. Worthy of-” Keith cuts him off with annoyance.

“Are you going to show us your office or not?” Keith asks. Lance pouts at him but he brightens back into his usual smile. He bows, stepping aside to present the door like it was a King from another country. 

“Of course! _Mi casa es tu casa, mi pequeña magdalena malhumorada.”_ Lance says, and Keith gets the feeling whatever he said was directed specifically at Keith. He ignores it and leads the group inside, but he’s shocked at what he sees. 

On the shared wall, directly in front of the door, is a long cream colored couch with a little table in the corner on the other side of it. On it is a lamp, and instead of drawers there’s empty bookshelves. On the opposite wall to the couch, pushed into the corner closest to the door, is a desk, flush to the wall. There’s hardly anything on it, just two picture frames and a computer and keyboard. A little lion plushy, also blue because of course in next to the computer. 

Across the long wall between the couch and desk, the one across from the door, is nothing but empty bookshelves. They only go chest high, and in the far corner, the shelf cuts into what looks like steps. Each step has a drawer. Above, directly above the little steps, is a hammock, stretched across the corner a foot from the ceiling, and five feet off the ground. 

Lance eases his way into the room, and then turns to them with his arms spread, eyebrows wiggling expectantly. Keith has no words for how nice this office looks compared to everyone else’s. The only office in the Castle that looks quite so nice is Allura’s. But hers is bigger, spread out. And even though lance has all of this in a normal sized office, it isn’t cramped in the least bit. 

Keith looks down at the floor when color catches his eye. It’s a blue rimmed rug with a blue lion crouched, ready to pounce. Where the hell is he getting all this Blue Lion stuff? 

“So? Nice right?” Lance says, his voice filled with pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation:
> 
> Mi casa es tu casa, mi pequeña magdalena malhumorada=
> 
> My home is your home, my grouchy little cupcake.


	36. Laith and Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Nyma! This is where things really get fun. >:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been awhile, I was in a small depressive episode, but I'm better now!

"I don't think we have to worry all that much." Lance says. Keith had just explained what he had seen at the park, which is a little late if you ask him because well, it's already been a week. But Keith wanted to 'check her out', the her being the silver haired lady who knows one of Lance's many names.

Lance kicked his feet up on the desk of Allura's office, picking at a stack of Skittles he had poured out onto the desk beside him. He only eats the blue ones, as part of his entire aesthetic as the Blue Lion. Plus he just really likes the color blue.

Keith huffs and knocks Lance's feet off the corner of the desk.

Lance pouts. They're all gathered around the fancy desk-computer like usual, but it's a far more casual affair. They had all just gotten done with the training for today, even if Lance only participated in the workout and not in the weapons or fight training. Gotta keep his legs powerful somehow. Pidge and Allura are on her side of the desk, Lance and Keith on the other, with Hunk and Shiro at opposite heads of the table. Coran stood in his usual place at Allura's back, but he's relaxed, leaning against the wall.

They need a lounge or something.

"You have no clue what you're talking about, she knew your name! Or one of them at least." Keith says. Lance waits until Keith turns away and then promptly plants his feet on Keith's lap. Keith doesn't even bother pushing his feet off this time. Lance thumbs through the stack to locate another blue skittle, and pops it into his mouth.

"Which one is that again?" Lance asks.

Keith growls at him in frustration. There's a sharp pain at his ankle, and Lance yelps, yanking his feet off of Keith who is smirking.

"Alexander." Keith says.

Lance hums, thinking about that alias. There's not many times he used that name. It's not his favorite, he prefers Leandro or something else a little bit more. Lance shrugs, popping another blue skittle in his mouth and pouting when can't find anymore. He pushes the stack of Skittles over to Pidge who attacks it like a starved animal, handfuls going into her mouth in one swing. Hunk also takes a small handful before Pidge can eat them all.

"Maybe she's not talking about me, this mystery woman of yours Keith. There are plenty of Alexanders in the world." Lance says plopping his feet back in Keith's lap.

Allura hums, leaning back in her chair.

"I'll look into it Keith, no worries. In the meantime, Lance you have to learn to fight." She says and Lance freezes like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He had been preparing to launch a pen at Keith's head. Upon noticing the miniature projectile aiming for him, Keith snatches the pen away with a scowl, simultaneously knocking Lance's feet down again.

"We don't want another incident like at the warehouse. You need to be able to protect yourself." Allura continues. Lance huffs as guilty eyes turn away from him. He thought they were past this.

"I'm fine and I will be fine Allura. Just trust me on that." Lance says. She doesn't look happy, but the subject is dropped.

"Fine." She says. "Then what about your contact, did you get the information we need?"

Lance picks up his little blue lion plushy, which had been sitting on the desk. He starts pressing his fingers into the stuffed toy, relaxing with the feel of a bunch of tiny beads morphing around his fingers. He smiles guiltily at Allura.

"Just a bunch of here say and rumors. Nothing concrete. I had him put out feelers though, and we should be meeting the day after tomorrow for an update." Lance says. Allura sighs, rubbing at her eyes and tugging at her bun. Shiro, sitting at the head of the table closest to Allura, slips his hand beneath the desk. She gives him a tiny smile, and Lance eases up on his abuse of his lion.

Those two are adorable together.

"Well we still have the chance to move on Sendak and the diamonds." Keith says. "They haven't set up a buy yet so we can-" There's a shrill ringing cutting through the air and cutting Keith off. He slips his phone out of his pocket with a small frown and answers. Lance would have at least stepped away, but to each their own.

"Hello?" Keith answers. Lance sees him hesitate before speaking, probably resisting the urge to answer like an FBI agent would. It makes him smile a little as he pushes his fingers into the lion's eyes.

"Sorry I think you have the wrong number, there is no Laith here."

Lightning shoots through Lance's veins and he launches up and forward. His lion goes flying behind him as he lunges to grab Keith's phone before he hung up. He put a little more force than necessary, and he crashes into Keith, sending the both of them sprawling. The phone slips out of Keith's hand and Lance scrambles to grab it.

He doesn't even move off of Keith, where he's bracketed between Lance's thighs. Lance grabs the phone and places it to his ear out of breath.

"I'm here, it's Laith. Hello?" Lance says. There's a short little silence on the other end that has his heart skyrocketing out of his chest. Then a silky female voice slides into his ear.

 _"Blue?"_ Nyma says, sounding slightly uncertain. Lance gets off of Keith to step away, he doesn’t leave the room, or even lower his voice, he just turns his back to the group staring at him. A heavy flush rises on his neck, and he knows it because when he runs his hand over the back of his neck his skin is heated. 

“The one and only Blondie.” Lance says, and chuckles at her growl over the phone. She went blonde one time and it was a disaster, so now she hates any reminder of those times. “Is this business or pleasure?”

Admittedly, he did kind of forget about his witnesses, but it’s too easy to fall into this routine again. He should really stop coming back to her, and so should she. They’re horrible together. 

_“Business sadly.”_

“Makes sense, given who owns this number.” Lance says, and he turns around to look at Keith. Everyone is staring at him in varying stages of shock and suspicion. The second one kind of stings his heart a little, though he can’t be sure why.

 _“Listen Blue, you need to get out of there. I don’t know why you let yourself be caught in the first place, but it’s too dangerous now.”_ Nyma says, her voice not even a little joking. She sounds anxious, and Nyma doesn’t get anxious. It sends worry shooting through his system.

“Nyma what’s going on?” Lance asks, he locks eyes on the desk so he didn’t have to look at the others. It’s easier to mask his emotions that way, his eyes are too expressive for his own good.

 _“There’s chatter that your little pets have been labeled as national traitors.”_ Lance jerks, snapping his eyes to Allura. She’s looking at him with narrowed eyes, but her eyebrows are creased in concern. _“Feds are on their way this minute to arrest everyone in that building, including you.”_

Lance straightens his shoulders as he prepares to convince the others to run. But first he has to make sure, just in case this is a prank call. Then again she used his _WARNING: DANGER APPROACHES_ alias. That doesn’t bode well.

“How positive are you on this information Ny?” Lance asks, barely able to speak through his throat closing up on him. 

_“Enough that I’m cleaning house as we speak.”_ She pauses. 

_“The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.”_ Nyma says, quoting Charles Dickens, and then there’s a drawn out beep as she hangs up. Lance swallows thickly, pushing aside his panic and setting his shoulders. He lowers the phone slowly.

“So,” Pidge says, drawing the word out for a good few seconds. “What was that all about?”


	37. Oncoming Traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance drives the getaway car.

_How do you tell someone their country believes them a traitor?_

Lance freezes, looking at each of the team as he tries to figure out what he wants to say. They all stare him down, eyes curious, concerned and suspicious(that last one is all Keith and Allura really). Lance meets each of their eyes one at a time. 

“Do you trust me?” Lance says. It’s not the first thing he wanted to say, it wasn’t even on the list, but it’s out there now. So screw him right? When no one answers him verbally, he repeats himself. Pidge and Hunk nod, but it’s the only reactions he receives. Good enough.

“You guys have been labeled as traitors, and we need to leave because the feds are on their way now to arrest you for crimes against the nation.” He says, but it’s quick, words running into each other. There’s a pause as everyone soaks in the information he just dumped onto their minds. 

“Um,” Pidge starts, but Hunk finishes. “What?”

“Is this, like, a joke or something?” Shiro asks, a wobbly smile on his lips. Lance huffs and shakes his head no.

“I’m serious guys, when have I ever lied to you?” Lance said, almost immediately regretting his words. They all share a look, eyebrows across the room raising into their hairlines. 

“Your connection to Zarkon.” Pidge says.

“Your feelings towards Keith.” Hunk continues.

“Your name.” Shiro tacks on. Lance feels heat rise to his cheeks, looking away and at the floor with a scowl.

“I know what I said, and I meant it too.” Lance growls out. There’s a small silence. Lance doesn’t dare look up from the ground, turning his head to the side to stare at the corner of the room. He grits his teeth as embarrassment rises.

“You don’t mean-” Allura says, cutting herself off. Lance grinds his teeth and fights the urge to look at anyone. He wanted to see their expressions, but he knew he wouldn’t handle well if they were bad ones. What he said was true, every word. He has never lied to this team, not even about his name. 

Omitted details? Sure, but never flat out lies. 

“Now,” Lance says, ignoring the new elephant in the room, the pendulum swinging ever lower over his head. “Do you believe me?” He looks up finally, but doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, just stares over their heads as he waits for the final verdict. 

They’re wasting time, and he knows they are, but he won’t be able to get them to evacuate if he doesn’t have their trust. Lance feels like a time bomb is set to explode, the timer tick tick ticking away the longer this is drawn out. 

“Keith?” Allura asks. Lance, along with everyone else’s snap to hers, then to Keith’s when she asks her question. “You’re his handler, do we trust him?” Lance locks eyes with Keith, letting every emotion he’s feeling have free access through his eyes. 

Keith’s eyes, like violet pools, peer deeply into him. Like he’s trying to see into his very soul. Lance allows it, knowing that to gain trust is to give trust. It doesn’t make it any less difficult. Keith stares at him for a long moment, and Lance is forced to look into an emotionless mask, unable to read Keith like he wants to in that very moment. 

“Hunk.” Keith says, finally breaking the tension. In the corner of his eye Lance sees Hunk jump in his seat. “Grab any technology and parts or whatever we may need in the future. Pidge is your computer safe? Can anyone access it?” Pidge scoffs, which is answer enough for Keith. 

“You and Allura, download and then wipe the servers. Leave no trace of data behind. Coran, any paper files we don’t need to take, burn them. Use accelerant. Shiro, weapons and ammo. Keep it light, we don’t know what we might run into, we need to move quick.” Keith says. His eyes never leave Lance’s, and it’s oddly comforting. 

“Lance and I will grab the go bags and we’ll convene at the SUV. Be prepared to leave quick, we won’t be coming back presumably, so grab anything you need before you go to the SUV.” Keith says. “Move out.”

They set to work and in a matter of minutes, the team is in the SUV, packed and ready to go. Lance and Keith are the last ones. Keith needs to unlock the tracker on his ankle. Lance holds onto the car for balance, even though he doesn't truly need it. Keith pauses, Lance’s foot in his hand and looks up at him from below. 

“Are you sure?” Keith says, his voice low and barely moving. Lance gets it. They’re putting a lot of faith into Lance’s word, all at the order of Keith. If Lance leads them astray, it’s all on Keith for trusting in him. 

“Trust me Keith.” Lance says, giving everything he has to make Keith see he’s not trying to trick him. He may steal things, and he may piss off a lot of powerful people, good and bad both. But Keith is probably the only person he can trust enough to be so open with. Which is kind of funny, given the fact that Keith hunted him like a hounddog for three years so he could throw him in prison. 

Keith keeps eye contact for a moment longer, something Lance can’t read sparking in the very center of them, before he breaks contact and slips off the ankle monitor. Lance stops Keith when he goes for the driver’s seat.

“Mind if I drive?” Lance asks, a smile on his face. Keith huffs but only moves t the passenger seat as an answer. Lance hops into the SUV and cracks his knuckles. 

“Uh,” Hunk says. “I think Lance is actually telling the truth after all, because we’re surrounded by police.” He passes the tablet forward, seeing as he was in the very back of the SUV with Shiro. Pidge takes a look, then hands the tablet forward, lips pressed into a thin line. Lance takes a look and frowns as he sees a lot more cops than he expected so soon. 

“Alright everybody, I suggest you hold onto something.” Lance says. When he makes sure everyone has a good grip on something, Allura and Coran both crossing their arms in front of Pidge, who’s center seat, he shifts into drive. He keeps his hold on the break as he guns the engine, warming it up, then they shoot forward as he lets off the gas. 

The garage where the SUV and other vehicles are stored is sort of like a miniature parking structure. Lance takes the two curves hard, keeping his foot on the gas and manhandling the wheel to turn. He ignores the shrieks and curses filling the car. They shoot onto the top floor, where the garage door is still down. Keith starts cussing, telling him to slow down but he does the opposite.

“Lance, the garage- LANCE THE GARAGE DOOR!” Keith yells. Lance smirks, putting pedal to the metal. 

“I see it.” He says.

“SLOW DOWN!” Keith yells back, but Lance leans forward, preparing himself for the force of what comes next. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Keith nearly flattened to his seat with wide eyes, curses even a sailor would think were crude slipping from his mouth. Lance is pleasantly surprised when he realizes some of them are in Japanese. _That’s kind of hot._

Lance smashes into the garage door at ninety, ripping the metal off the hinges. 

The windshield cracks, spiderweb fissures cluttering some of his vision but he knows he doesn’t need to see. He saw the outside of the building through the camera, and he knows what he’s doing, so he guns the engine even more. They sail through the air when they the curb of the street and barrel straight towards a cop car barricade. 

“LANCE ARE YOU INSANE!?” Shiro yells, and Lance checks his rear view mirror to see Hunk’s face turn an alarming shade of green before he’s leaning over the seat to the trunk. Presumably throwing up. Lance looks back to the road and speeds up, playing chicken with the line of cops in front of him. _Please,_ Lance thinks to himself, _this is nothing compared to my flying._

He’s smart enough not to say it out loud.

They win the game of chicken and the cops dive out of the way, and Lance rams the opening of the cop cars, sending the two cars spiralling off into the others beside them. Lance hops the grassy stretch and gets on the highway. After a minute or so there is sirens going off behind him and Lance checks his rear view to see about a dozen cops on his tail. 

Time for some fancy driving. This’ll be fun.

“I suggest you guys hold on just a bit longer, we aren’t free yet.” Lance says, and he yanks the wheel, sending the car into oncoming traffic.


	38. Rat Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Slav!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I just haven't been in the mood that much to write. But I'm back!

“This way!” Lance urged, twisting on his heel, skittering down a side road.

His momentum is a little too fast for the movement, so he nearly falls flat on his ass, but he stays on his feet and picks his speed back up. They had ditched the car the moment they had a good enough distance between the dozen cop cars on their trail. They hid in a little convenience store until the cars sped passed, none the wiser to their new mode of transportation. 

Meaning, on foot.

“Lance!” Hunk huffed behind him, taking up the rear of the line of criminals running through the streets. Keith is hot on his tail, which is funny, because that’s where he’s been for the past three years. On Lance’s tail like there’s no tomorrow, breathing down his neck. 

“Slow- _huff_ -down!” Hunk yelled. 

Pidge made a weird sound that makes it sound like she’s in full agreement. She takes the second to last position in their line, with Coran in front of her, as red in the face as a cherry, but his lips sealed. Shiro and Allura are actually running side by side, sometimes easing in front of one another then falling back. They make it look like it’s a race, which probably helps them blend in a little.

Lance looks around at his surroundings, looking for his next turn and his eyes widen as an idea strikes him. He does another teetering twist down an alley and slows down as he comes up to the end of it. 

He huffs for breath as the rest of them catch up.

Hunk and Pidge collapse to the ground in heaving breaths, Coran merely taking a knee and dirtying his usually immaculate suit. Shiro and Allura huff for air too, but they know better than to stop suddenly after running, and jog in place for a minute as they wind down. Keith barely looks affected by their sprint, unless you count the cute red flush across his nose. 

“Lance, this is a dead end!” Keith shouts in a horribly loud whisper. 

There’s shouting in the streets behind them and Lance sucks in a breath as he looks in front of him to the wall. To the average person, it’s just a brick wall, but Lance knows better. He sucks in a breath and weakly bangs against the wall. 

“Open up!” He yells. There’s no response, and his eyebrow twitches in irritation.

“Open up Slav, or I’ll rip your precious hands off!” Lance tries again. Keith mutters behind him, and Lance barely catches the words.

“Oh great, I’ve entrusted my freedom to a mental patient.” 

Lance shoots him a glare before crossing his arms and tapping his foot at the wall. He waits a few seconds before he starts counting down from three. He barely finishes saying the number two before the wall opens up in front of him. Only a crack. His companions gasp behind them as Lance shoves his hand into the crack before Slav can close it.

Slav is what Lance likes to call a ‘paranoid rat-man’.

With the door wide open, Slav can be seen in all his non existent glory. He’s short, like a dwarf, with a face like a rat. His eyebrows are furry, his lips paper thin, his large nose nearly constantly twitching like a rat sniffing for cheese. Wide brown eyes twitch between Lance and his companions before landing back on Lance. 

The shouting grows closer, close enough he can hear the radio responses of the police radios.

“Let me in Slav.” Lance says, not holding back his hostile tone. He has to be hostile towards Slav, the man is as sneaky as he is paranoid. The only thing he responds appropriately and in a timely fashion to, are threats and violence. Lance sneers and cracks his knuckles.

Slav squeaks like a rat too.

“Don’t hurt me Mr. Lion!” Slav says and scuttles out of view, leaving the door open. Lance takes the hint and ushers his friends through the door. He’s last to enter so he can close the door properly, and in the very thin slit before the click of the camouflage door a cop appears. The door shuts just as he glances down the alleyway.

Lance turns back to the room, easing between his shell shocked friends to make his way to the front counter. Ever imagined what a genie’s lamp would look like on the inside? A lot of colorful fabrics hanging on the wall, and beads dangling from the ceiling, right? 

That’s what Slav’s shop looks like. 

Slav is what you could call a jack of all trades, the man to go to if you need something. Need firepower? Give him a week, he’ll have every option available from pocket pistols to high caliber sniper rifles to rocket launchers. Need information? Give him ten minutes and a little gossip and you’re good to go. Need specially designed clothes, say, for heists? Not even a problem. 

Lance leans on the counter, and taps his fingernails deliberately against the counter slowly. Slav squeaks again, and Lance wants to smile as he knows where Slav is hiding. Beneath the counter is such an obvious hiding place. 

“Slav,” Lance says, drawing out the name with a warning tone. “Don’t keep me waiting, you know I don’t like it when you keep me waiting.”

Slav squeaks again, and two small, scarred hands curl on the counter. His head peaks up a little, just enough for his eyes. He’s as wide eyed and terrified as a cow to the slaughter. 

“Yes? How can I- how may I help you, Mr. Blue Lion sir?” Slav says and Lance smiles. It’s funny how Slav trembles even in front of Lance’s most charming of smiles. 

“I need some things, and I need them done fast.” Lance says. He pulls Keith’s wallet out of his suit jacket and waves it in the air. Slav’s eyes follow it greedily and he peeks out from behind the counter in interest. Another way to get him to do as you want, offer him money. That large nose twitches as if he can smell the cash.

“And that is?” Slav says, his eyes darting over to his silent friends. 

Lance points at them lazily, flipping his palm to the ceiling. Hunk shuffles where he stands, and Lance wants to sigh. They’ve done it now. Showing any sign of weakness in front of Slav is a big fat no-no. Like he said, Slav is sneaky. No doubt he thinks he can wring everything he can out of his friends, including the clothes on their backs. 

Lance taps his nails against the counter and Slav snaps his eyes away.

“See, my companions and I are in some trouble, so I need full packs for each of them, including myself.” Lance says. Slav tilts his head in curiosity. Lance leans forward to look Slav in the eyes. “And quickly.”

“I can do that, give me three days.” Slav says. Lance raises his eyebrows. 

“I’ll give you three hours.” 

Slav tries to stare him down, but like always, Lance wins. He huffs and slips out from behind the counter, moving to the back of the shop. Lance tosses the wallet into Keith’s hands, who catches it in confusion. Then he pats his pockets and lets out a sound of outrage.

“What are full packs?” Pidge asks, eyes narrowed and face still flushed and sweaty from their sprint.

“It’s a full set of the things I need for heists. Including but not limited to, my black outfits, my masks, my tool pouch, and some other fun stuff that might come in handy. Slav, as annoying and as paranoid as he is, is the best of the business.” Lance replies. He eases off the counter as something crashes in the back room and Slav emerges. 

He’s now wearing his tool belt, has on his glasses with the magnifier, and is holding a tape measure. 

“Alright, fine but it’s going to cost you Mr. Blue Lion.” Slav says, his accent mangling his muttered words. He bounds over to his friends, who all step back at the same time. It’s over in three minutes, Slav having taken their measurements with practiced ease. He skips away to the back room again, and Lance follows.

The back room looks likes a tornado swept through and brought along all manner of items. Lance picks up a few things of hair dye, and some foundation for Shiro’s nose scar. He grabs a few more items to help disguise his friends as they make their way out of the city. Eventually the others ease into the room, one by one, and start looking around cautiously.

Keith sidles up next to Lance with his arms crossed.

They don’t say anything at first, but there’s a tension between them. Keith taps his foot as he idly peruses a stack of ordinary clothes. Lance sighs as he realises Keith isn’t going to say what he needs to without prompting. 

“Alright what’s on your mind mullet?” Lance asks, turning to Keith and cocking his hip. 

Keith huffs, the sharp exhale pushing a strand of his hair out of his face. It takes him a few minutes to work up the nerve. Lance waits patiently, staring him down calmly.

“Thanks.” Keith mutters, refusing to meet Lance’s eyes. 

“For?” Lance drawls.

“Everything. I mean,” Keith pauses and restarts. “Thanks for staying. You could have ditched us any number of times after I took off your ankle monitor. But you didn’t.”

Lance cocks an eyebrow in amusement, a smile teasing at his lips.

“Keith I could have escaped when I still had the monitor if I wanted. But I didn’t because everything I’m working towards would be in vain.” Lance says. It’s quiet, because he doesn’t want the others to hear. Sure, he can trust them all, to an extent at least, but Keith is the one he really needs to understand.

In the beginning, he never planned to get caught. He wanted to use Keith and his friends for his own gain. But then Slav sold him some bad information on Keith’s movements and his plans were sped up and sent in a different direction. 

Before Keith ever joined the team in the hunt for Zarkon, Lance was going to use Keith to get to Shiro and follow their movements from afar. However, Pidge is smarter than she looks, so here he is. Now though, he doesn’t want to use them. He wants to help them. These are good people embarking on a dangerous mission, for the good of the world. 

Maybe at the cost of their own life.

Lance’s connection and knowledge of criminal thought process, and the resources they gain from Allura, and the experience Keith provides in these type of operations. Then with Pidge’s brilliant grasp on technology, and Hunk’s clever mind with mechanics, and Shiro’s natural ability to lead, and Coran’s sheer encyclopedic knowledge. They can be unstoppable. 

Not even Zarkon can oppose them, if they can get their shit together. 

“What do you mean?” Keith asks. His eyes are narrowed at Lance, and it cuts a little, but he gets it. 

“I mean,” Lance says. “I intended to use all of you. I wanted to use you as decoys to dismantle Zarkon’s operation while he’s focused on all of you. But Pidge is even more clever then I am. Now though, I just want to help you guys.”

Keith doesn’t look convinced, in fact he looks even more suspicious. His right hand twitches towards that fancy dagger strapped to his back. Lance quickly explains as much as he can in as little words as possible.

“I’m not your enemy anymore Keith. We’re in this together, no matter the consequences.” Lance says. Keith looks into his eyes, and Lance knows he can see everything Lance is saying is true. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. If that’s true, then Lance’s eyes are garage doors. If you have the right remote, it’s easy to get passed his flimsy protection.

“Finished!” Slav yells, and the sound of a sewing machine whirring sputters out. He walks up to Lance with his arms full of his order. Lance steps away from Keith and plasters on the mask he uses for his Blue Lion facade. He accepts the stack of clothes and bags.

“So, my payment?” Slav says, and he’s steepling his fingers underneath his chin with a greedy look in his eyes. Lance scowled, and leaned down to look Slav dead in the face.

“I’d say I don’t owe you a cent. Makes us even for your bad intel. That’s a good deal, don’t you say?” Lance says, and he fills his words with malice. It’s best to use intimidation here, rather than money. Where they’re going, they’ll need every cent they’ve got. Slav trembles and makes another of his rat-like squeaks.

“Of course, Mr. Blue Lion sir! Take anything you need, and then we’re even?” Slav asks, sounding hopeful. Lance leans back with a smile and the tension visibly leaves Slav’s shoulders.

“Now, while we’re here, I’m going to commandeer your loft so that my companions and I can get ready to set out.” Lance says, not even bothering to look back at Slav for confirmation as he pivots on his heel and heads to a staircase stashed away in the far right corner of the room.

They waste no time getting changed into their new outfits.

The look is sleek, and form fitting. On the girls, it accentuates their curves, even Pidge’s subtle one’s she hides beneath her hoodies. On the guys, it makes them look buffer, even on Shiro which is hard to accomplish. 

The design this time is a simple two part outfit, pants and a long sleeve top.. The fabric is thick, but it’s breathable and stretchy. A thin metal plating is sewn in between two pieces of fabric on their vital points; their chests, their stomachs, in between their shoulders blades all the way up to the neck, and on their thighs. The color is a simple black, but Slav put a little bit of personality to each of their outfits. 

Like magic, he seems to have gotten everyone’s favorite colors correct. 

The color is placed in subtle spots of the outfit. The outer seams of the pants, the cuffs of the wrists and a little symbol on the chests. Like an outstretched ‘v.’ Lance tilts his head at the symbol and some things click into place at the back of his mind. 

The long sleeved top looks a little bit like suit jackets. Double breasted, like most of his heist outfits, with inside pockets and hidden slots in the sleeves. The pants just look like suit pants, except with that stretchy thick material instead. 

The shoes are Lance’s standards, because it’s the most common thing Slav sells regarding clothing. Versatile boots, with enough space at the top to fit an ankle holster, and with special grips on the bottom and extra padding in the feet. They help him jump across rooftops, softening the blow to his knees. 

“How did he do all of this within three hours?” Pidge asked in wonder, tugging at her top, interrupting Lance’s appraisal of how the outfits look. 

“It’s best not to question it Pidgey.” Lance says, and he checks his new watch, seeing that enough time has passed that the search should have died enough for them to slip out of here. But first there’s a few more touches he needs to do.

“Right,” Lance says, rummaging in the items he had grabbed from downstairs. He tosses the foundation one of the hair dyes to Shiro, the other hair dye to Allura. “You two are too eye drawing and recognizable. Cover your scar, and dye your hair.”

Allura and Shiro look at the items like they’re grenades. Lance looks the two of them over. Allura’s hair dye is a simple chestnut brown, and Shiro’s dye is black. He doesn’t have to do anything for Shiro’s arm, since the long sleeve top covers everything but the hands. 

“Well?” Lance says when they take a moment to long to get things done. “Go on, we need to leave soon.”

The two of them slouch off to the bathroom and help each other dye their hair, and Allura helps Shiro apply the foundation. The rest of them chill in the room, and Lance raids the kitchenette for something to eat.


End file.
